My life got complicated. Veronica became the best part of every day. In the sweltering summer humidity and heat, we escaped to the pool daily. I brought my two baby girls and a couple bags of Little Ceasars breadsticks and she brought her two sweet kids and her rocking body in that tiny bikini. She would sip on a blue Monster and I would 86 a couple RedBulls.
I can't remember what we talked about, but there was never hesitation. Comfort was our mode of operation and I loved hanging out with her. I felt like I could finally be myself even though I was still trapped in the LDS community, trying to squeeze my rectangular self into the tiny round hole that is religious Mormonism.
For weeks I watched her rub oil all over her body, her beautiful tattoos, her breasts, ass... She loved a good tan line and God, was she tan! The white of her natural skin peeking out from her ever tinier bikinis was so bright, shiny with tanning oil and art-like, it made me want to reach out and touch it to find out if it she was crafted from oil paint or acrylics.
As you may have surmised, Veronica is married. Two kids, nice home, husband has a good job, girl scouts, hockey, and all the rest. My mouth was sealed shut, never to leak what I felt in my stomach, chest, the wetness that would come. The thoughts in my head were repressed, pushed away. I couldn't tell anyone. And it was painful.
When my husband and I decided to split and I drove to Salt Lake City, I called her. I didn't want to tell anyone in the church, I didn't want to talk to anyone, I didn't want anyone to tell me that God wanted me to stay. I just wanted to see Veronica and tell her goodbye. When I called I had the kids in the car, and all of my things were ready, I was specifically waiting for her. But she was out visiting family in a neighboring town and wouldn't be home for a few hours. The sadness I felt driving away without getting to see her and hug her and hear her sweet voice with the adorable accent was deep. More deep by far than the sadness for my failed marriage, which at this point we both knew was long over.
A year passed, and as we stayed in touch, I wanted her to visit and the trip was planned!! Finally, a year too late, I would get to see my best friend again!
I remember when the first hints at mutual sexual attraction began.
Somehow talk led to thoughts on sexual experimentation and um, lesbian desires. She sent me a photo in a text and asked "how does this make you feel?" I remember the photo perfectly and when I was writing this, I emailed her and asked her if she remembered the first photo she ever sent me. She did. It was a kitchen scene, two lovely, tattooed ladies from the waist down, naked save panties, legs entwined.
The image excited all of me in all of the ways that I had been wanting for so many, many years. She arrived. Her visit wasn't long, just barely three days. I took her to the Pie Hole, RedRock, up to see the mountains, we rode the tram up to the top of Hidden Peak at Snowbird and there where we could see the whole world, I remember the feel of holding her hand for the first time.
I also remember the night that I drank enough liquid courage that I walked up to her standing in my living room, put my hand around her perfect waist and pulled her towards me. I kissed her for a long time and it was like spring had sprung or like a thousand doves cooing, or a million butterflies taking off all at the same moment. It was like nothing I had ever experienced and everything that I could have imagined.
The next part is pretty rad and I know what you're probably wondering. Yes, I fucked her. But it's more than that. Years have passed and my love for her grows. When I need to imagine a happy place, she is there with me, warm breeze, her laugh, her smile, her touch. Together. She is everything I could ever want. In a partner, in a friend, in a lover, in a confidant.
So why might I have stated in the title, what impossible feels like? Simply because for Veronica and I, our time is not yet. I cannot be with her. It's tragedy and pain and agony. Yet it makes my love for her and our bond stronger. We grow closer over the thousands of miles between us.
I ask each of you one question: think of the person who completes you or the person you are searching for and tell me in one word, who are they?
For me, it's Veronica and she is Zen. Peace, calm, rest, stillness, tranquility, my center. I love her so and one day, one glorious, delicious, deserving day, we will be together.