Sophie is my very best friend and confidante. We spent a lot of time together. I even have a bedroom at her house. This is where I come on Mondays and Tuesdays to get away. It’s how I stay sane. I’ve got clothes in the closet, personal items in the bathroom, got my own sheets and pillows on the bed.
So it turns out that Sophie’s in love with me.
We’re not lovers.
Sophie’s made it clear she’s interested. You know, in a relationship. A sexual relationship.
I’ve never done that. You know, with a woman.
But I want to.
It’s just that…I’m new to this. Thankfully, Sophie’s being super patient with me. I don’t know what I’d do without her!
Sophie and I went out for her birthday last night. I hand her a birthday card with a long, girly note about what she’s means to me this year. She read it and started crying. Watching her cry made me cry. We see each other crying and that makes us both laugh. Then I hand her the gift. She opens it, sees the bracelet, and starts crying again.
“I’ll treasure this,” she says, putting it on.
I smile, knowing it’s true.
In a very quiet voice she says, “I love you, Dani. You have no idea how much.”
“I love you too, Sofe,” I say, using her nickname.
That night we do what we always do before going to bed. Put on the most outrageous pajama tops and bottoms we can find, and hang out in her den and talk and laugh for hours.
My house in Cincinnati has one upstairs bedroom, Sophie’s house in Nashville has two. Both have master bedrooms on the first floor. But on Mondays and Tuesdays, Sophie sleeps in the vacant upstairs bedroom to be closer to me.
I love that about her.
When we’re all talked out we walk up the stairs together like we always do, and hug each other goodnight. Over the months we’ve been together the hugs have gotten longer and more intimate, though nothing sexual has taken place.
Yet.
But during these moments when we’re in each other’s arms, and our bodies are touching, and I close my eyes and feel her heartbeat, I get flushed, off-balance, and almost completely out of control.
Almost.
Could I ever be truly satisfied and fulfilled being in a long-term relationship with a woman?
I honestly don’t know.
Could Sophie?
She doesn’t know either, but she thinks so.
“You’re too pretty to be with a man,” she once said. “We need you on our team.”
“Your team?” I laughed. “You’re barely on the team yourself!”
So yes, we’ve talked about it, but the bottom line is we’re both newbies. Sophie’s had seven sexual experiences in her life and only two of them were women.
“Every night we hug vertically,” she says. “Just once I’d like us to hug horizontally.”
I laugh. “You always say that.”
“And yet you never take me up on it.”
“I don’t trust myself.”
She pulls back and grins. “You’ve never said that before!”
“Guess you’re wearing me down.”
“My evil plan is working?”
“Seems to be.”
She pretends to do a little cheer. Then says, “Yay!”
She kisses my cheek.
I kiss hers and say, “Happy birthday, Sofe.”
“At the risk of sounding like Joe Fagin,” she says, “This is the best birthday ever!”
We laugh.
Sophie goes to her room, but leaves her door open.
