Disclaimer - This story describes some sexual tensions and romantic feelings one woman experiences for another, her best friend in fact. If this makes you uncomfortable, there are plenty of great works of fiction on the net for you. This is purely an emotional vent. Any comments and reasonable criticisms may be sent to the e-mail address below. Please, keep it clean and all blatantly negative comments will be ignored.
This, my first attempt at fan-fiction, is dedicated to all my new friends at the Tavern Wall; you guys make my days easier to get through with your humor and acceptance. And to my best friend D - you were my first love and though you don't return my feelings, your friendship and love have changed me in so many ways.
There are days in which I don't know who I am anymore. I've been taught to believe so many things in the last few years of my life that I hardly understand what's going on with my mind or my body. Things that used to be wrong, seem to be more natural than ever. Feelings that once ashamed or confused me run closer to the surface, kicking and screaming to be released. I don't really know when I began to love you. I would like to say that it began from the very first moment we spoke, from the very first time our eyes met. But I do know that whatever the time or the circumstances, it simply happened. And I have never felt more alive or surer of what I wanted.
You alone know how often I think about the things I've said and done in the past. The fear that gnaws at me from the inside when I think of where I could have ended up. At difficult times, you are always there to hold my hand, brush the hair out of my eyes, and with soothing voice and touch make me stronger for tomorrow. At my worst, you physically shake me from my anger and my tendency to pity myself, when there are so many things in this life to worry and fight for. At other times, my hunger for you is unimaginable. By my standards you are perfection among women, and never have I encountered a smile as caring or as disconcerting. Eyes the color of a warm, clear lake in the summer. They sparkle bright with mischief and joy, combine with metallic gray in anger and pale like the afternoon sky in worry or grief. In any shade, however, they constantly see into my soul, knowing me better sometimes, then I know myself. Your hair, long and billowy as it was, short and smooth as it is now, has always captivated me. Long have I wanted to bury my face in red-gold locks, and forget the world with your scent. Aphrodite holds not a candle to your charms.
I lie awake at night imagining how things would be if you wanted me too. Simply kissing your lips excites me; the thought of us exploring each other's mouths is tantalizing. I would hold you in my arms all night, gently stroking the silky skin on your back, the small hairs on your arms and legs. If you were in the mood, I would make slow, lazy love to you, running my tongue in places no one has yet dared to touch. The thought of your flavor, your moans and your screams…is all too much for me to handle. Dizziness and insanity all at once.
But you'll never know. You won't ever find out to what extent my love exists because I'll always be afraid. Afraid of losing someone who has meant so much to me and who I couldn't bear to lose because of my misplaced lust. Forever I will remain fixated on a dream, and jealous of all those who try to take it away. Even if you don't want me, could you stay as my friend regardless? Will I always be alone? If I can't have you, then I can only pray that I will find someone exactly like you. Because for me, there is no one else.
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