Sometimes it brings her to her knees, this ache. This feeling of wanting someone so much that it physically makes you ill. And there is nothing she can do. No one she can turn to. No pill, no cream, no treatment. She’s got to wait it out, let the dreams go until they subside, and pray to God that no one ever finds out. It’s only been a couple of years, after all.
How could she possibly love someone she barely knows? Only, she knows this woman all too well. The way her eyes water in the sunshine. The way her sweat tastes. The way her hair feels after a shower. She knows the lines and curves and “wrinkles” of every single part of her body.
And it’s not because they’ve had sex. It’s because she watches. Because she’s watched for years and memorized them. She’s hugged and touched and held and kneaded. And this feeling, this love she’s got, has flourished and grown in spite of all her efforts to squelch it.
And there is nothing Anna can do.
She sighs under the weight of it. It’s not anyone’s fault but her own. She’s allowed herself to get in too deep. And now walking away is the closest thing to everyone’s lips and the furthest thing from her mind.
She can’t imagine what it would feel like to not have her there. Can’t dream of the day that she didn’t wake up to the snoring in the next room. She doesn’t know what it’d be like to not have that smiling face looking back at her from across the dinner table.
They’re best friends. Teammates. Married women. They’re leaders, fighters, players, and, sometimes, opponents. They’ve knocked each other down, held each other’s hand, and nursed each other to health after illness and injury. They were either at or in each other’s wedding. They’ve been together for a long, long time. But she’s leaving.
There will be no more candlelit dinners with tuna salad and Pepsi. There will be no more running along the beach in the rain. There won’t be anymore beach volleyball shenanigans. There won’t be any more Amy.
And there is nothing Brandi can do.
How does a person’s heart break into two pieces? Does it simply draw a line like two children fighting over a room? She’s on my side! Or does it physically tear in half and pray there’s enough blood pumping still to sustain the body? The latter seems true because this hurts. It really hurts like hell being in love with two women.
Oh, forget that she’s married. She’s been married before. The first time it was love. And under her mom’s advice, the second time (this time) it’s for money. And show…don’t forget the show.
One love is young, athletic, smart, attractive, funny, and out. She’s dynamic, a go-getter, aggressive, and she can dance. She’s witty and brave and so incredibly sexy when you can see the confidence on her face. This love makes her feel exciting and young again. Makes her want to get dressed up and go out on the town and party like she did when she was 23. Only, she didn’t party when she was 23…so she’d have to party enough to make up for that, too! This love is new and different and overwhelmingly hot. And she’s in love with her.
The other love is long-standing, honest, faithful, and trustworthy. It’s steadfast and time-tested. She’s been there through weddings, a divorce, lost family, and injury. She’s been the rock, the savior, the hand-holder, the wit and wisdom for years. This love has never let her down, never left her side, and never asked for more than she could give. It’s comfortable, real, and fits like a worn pair of jeans. And she’s in love with her, too.
And now she’s leaving them both. For a life her family’s begged her to live for years. For domestication, for a husband, for a life outside of soccer and the trials of trying to make it into something it might never, ever be. She’s leaving them in good hands…they’re just..not her hands. She’s leaving them. She will always love them. Always. And there is nothing Amy can do about it.