On the Inside

5. The Olsons

Was I in love with Darlene Smith? 

I don't know. 

What do you call it when her memory was woven into the fabric of your being, an indelible thread that no other relationship could match, because every woman fell short in comparison to the girl who had occupied the front row of your high school life?

How do you explain the embrace of singlehood, not out of resignation but as a silent acknowledgment that, among the twists of fate, Darlene stood as the epitome of both beauty and elusiveness - an unattainable enigma that had forever tethered me to herself? So what was the point of even trying to move on?

Could you call that love? In that unanticipated moment, the answer eluded me. All I could affirm with certainty was this: whatever emotion I harbored for Darlene was too intricate to be encapsulated by a mere label, and too profoundly etched into every facet of my existence to be easily surmounted.

Yet, no where in the last decade or so did I ever imagine hearing the words that I did on that Friday night. 

"We can't be friends, because I think I am in love with you."

There had to have been a glitch in the universe, I was convinced. That, or I needed hearing aids. Glancing around I asked her, "Who are you talking to?"

She took a couple of steps forward, her lips molded into a soft smile. "There is no one here but us, Deion."

"Then you're kidding?"

"I am not kidding," she chuckled. 

"Are there hidden cameras?" I looked around again.

"Nopes," she laughed harder, and slipped her hand into mine. 

"And you do know that I am a janitor - well, I got promoted to supervisor, but I still don't have a college education, and you are Darlene Smith, the lawyer?"

Her warm, moist lips pecked my cheek, and I might just have forgotten how to breathe. "Congratulations on your promotion, but the rest is easy to ignore. All I know is that I met this amazing guy who makes me laugh like no one else ever has, and no matter how hard I try I can't seem to stop thinking about him."

"So..." her sultry voice caressed my skin, "I was wondering if he might be interested in becoming my boyfriend." 

Me, be Darlene Smith's boyfriend? In the real world, outside of my dreams? 

Oh. My. God. 

*******

Two Months Later

There was a period when I found solace in staying in bed, dreaming of a life seemingly out of reach - a life adorned with a beautiful girl, a charming apartment, a white-collar job, and the prestige of a college degree.

Now, every morning, I leapt out of bed because I had the girl, wrapped in her sweet and unwavering love. I'd transitioned to a comfortable apartment, consistently wore collared shirts for my job, and in the evenings, I immersed myself in the coursework for community college.

Life had become the embodiment of dreams - a canvas painted with hope, beauty, and a touch of magic.

I grabbed my phone while downing a cup of coffee and chewing on buttered toast. "Good morning, my love," I grinned into the phone. 

"Babe, its 6 am," she groaned in her tantalizing morning voice which made me wish I was with her right then, able to put my arms around her, revel in the comforting warmth of her soft body . But this wasn't the time to let loose my imagination.