Darlene Part II

In my life, I’ve lost track of many good friends whom I’d give anything to see again – Scott Harlan, Eric O., Michael G – and Darlene Tsue, beautiful, long-lost Darlene.

Darlene, since I posted Your name on this blog, I see that it pops up second in the Google search engine, right after a listing about a memorial about a Woman with Your same name, who is probably and hopefully not You. I hope that You are alive and well and that someday, somehow, You’ll get this message.

I have thus given You a well-deserved bit of immortality, at least in cyber-space.

I wish I could tell You, somehow, just how much Your brief passage through my life changed it. You were the first Girl to ever take me seriously -- a scrawny, lonely boy-- and for that I cannot, I will not ever forget You.

I adored You. I worshipped You – every pretty black curl of hair upon Your head, Your angelic smile, Your sweet mannerisms. You were so beautiful it’s almost painful to try to explain. Beautiful – in body and in soul, from head to toe, in every breath You took, in every word You said.

Twenty years have passed. We could be thousands of miles apart or unknowing neighbors.

What would You think if I told You how that time that You – such a delightfully naughty Girl -- stashed Your half-empty orange soda can in a torn spot in the bus seat, I scooped it up like a holy relic and drank what was left, in childish desire just to sip what You had sipped?

What would You think if I told You how every time You crushed out a cigarette at the lonely bus stop we shared, I nudged it carefully into a safe place, until I could return in the afternoon to claim it? That I still remember how Your lip gloss glittered so prettily on the white filters of Your Kools? That I kept them for years until my Mother found them and threw them out?

What would You think if I told You that I still remember, right down to the music that You were playing, right down to the parking spot that I could still point out today, almost every detail of that day You offered me a ride home from school – and that it was such an incredible honor that I didn’t know how to react and that I didn’t snub Your invitation to ride with You again, I simply couldn’t cope with it?

I knew so little about Your life – Your own insecurities, fears and frustrations. I asked You once, in my clumsy, schoolboy way, if You realized that You were pretty. You responded that some people had said You were. I’m not sure if You believed it.

You were. Oh, You were. If You had come along a few years later, when my confused mind had begun to settle, I might have been better able to help You realize that.

To any other Girl out there who might read this, in school or beyond, there is a message for You in this wistful post. It is very likely, highly possible that some shy, stammering angst-ridden boy among Your acquaintances, looks right past whatever little flaws You have, that seem so huge to You, and sees You as the most beautiful being he has ever met. He might not know how to say it, he might not ever say it, but chances are, he’d fight a rabid dog barehanded to save Your life. Be good to him. Be patient with him.