To Be

"Dare me to show my dick to that squirrel over there?"

That sort of question doesn't get uttered every day. But this was third grade. And this kid was Stuart. Stuart was what one might label as that crazy kid. Not the one running around shoving crayons in his nose, but more like Steve-O suddenly reverted back to a seven year old kind of crazy.

"Too late, I'm doing it."

I roll my eyes. That poor squirrel didn't deserve that. He was just out collecting his lunch and he got an eyeful of the wrong kind of nuts. If he was even looking.

"You're an idiot." I heard another kid say. This is how I met Dawson. Dawson was a quiet kid, like me. He was tall, wore glasses, and had long brown hair. He acted older than his age, and that wasn't always a good thing. But we became fast friends. I still remember going to his birthday party. That was when things really kicked off. We made cake and ate pizza and watched the premiere of "Code Name Kid Next Door" then shot at soda cans in the basement with his brother's BB-Gun.

Dawson was my best friend. He still is, but I never see him. In high school, we were insperable. We were intorverts, if you could possibly believe that, sos we didn't care much for parties and sex like much of the other kids our age. While you were out getting roofied at some kid's country club party, he and I were at his house playing Halo 3 and chugging soda. We weren't always the most adventurorous type. Sure we'd do the normal kid stuff of making dry ice bombs and home-made napalm instead of doing our homework, but it was high school. Homework didn't count for much anyways.

We almost never left eachother's sides. And I guess that's where my depression comes from. I lways had him. No matter how bad my girlfriend treated me, no matter how bad my grades were, I always had Dawson. He didn't even have to say anything, he just had to be there. And thats what I really miss. Just having someone be there. He didn't even have to care, he just had to pretend. But he's gone now.

He's not dead, he's not married. He is just farther away then I want him to be. Dawson was a smart kid. I still remember our senior year of high school. We'd go to his house every day after school to find his mailbox bursting with acceptance letters and plees from the local colleges, begging him to go there. I don't remember what he got on his ACTs or SATs, but I promise it was twice as high as mine. He could go anywhere. Do anything. But he didn't want to.

We had a friend named Matt. Matt was destined to be a Marine. He was the short scrappy type with obedience like a dog and dedication like one too. He was a wrestler and a smart kid. He needed a ride to take his ASVAB. Dawson was a good friend and did that for him. Apparently, they had him take one too, for shits and giggles. Matt got his scores back first. A solid 98. The highest they had ever seen at that recruiting station. Dawson got his back a week later.

99. Ninety fucking nine. It would have been perfect if they let you score that high. Every branch wanted his jock. But as far as I knew he didn't want that. It was all for fun. He was going to go to college and I would still be able to see him fromtime to time. But things don't always go as we hope.

Did you know I was the last person he told? I don't know why he didn't tell me. I don't know if he was trying to save me the pain. I don't know if he wanted to make it a surprise. I never knew with Dawson. But it was summer.We had dinner with his family on Sunday nights. It was practically a tradition by now. We would help his mom and dad cook and then go play video games while we yelled from room to room about whatever topic was hot.

"So, what are you going to do when Dawson is gone in two weeks?"

Two weeks? What do they mean? School doesn't start until August. It's only July.

"Didn't he tell you? He's going off to the Navy."

What do you mean? Is this a joke? Navy? Like boats and planes, right? What would Dawson have to do with that? I looked at Dawson. I knew they were serious. This was no joke. No punchline. He just stared at me. I wasn't mad. I wasn't crushed. I was surprised, I suppose.

"I am going to work on Nuclear Subs, maintaining the reactor cores."

In time I accepted it. The same old gay jokes would come about, how could youpossibly pass up the chance? He was going to be in a metal bottle at the bottom of the ocean with a ton of other dudes for months on end. That sounds like a Eric Anzalone fever dream if I ever heard of one. But that didn't make it any less weird. It was like our friendship suddenly had a timer.

I still remember saying goodbye. It was early on Monday morning when we piled into his mom's car. We stopped in the parking lot and sat in silence for a second. We just looked at each other. There was nothing to say. We stepped out of the car and we walked him to the group building up around the front door. We gave our hugs said our goodbyes. "Don't die."

"I don't plan to."

I smiled best I could. A slight grin cracking my face. The most painful smiles are the ones where you know you shouldn't be smiling. But what could you do. They were called to attention. They turned. The walked away. And that was it. It wouldn't be the last time I saw him again, but it felt like it. I was pretty much alone. College didn't start for two weeks and I had nothing to do. No one to talk to.

And I've been trying to replace him since. You can't just walk away from something like that. It's not just friendship. It's like saying goodbye to a brother. He was more family to me than my own brother in a lot of ways. We all know what that like. It seemed like we dated more than any of the girls I was ever seen with in high school. It was funny that way. You just can't replace a love like that, Because thats what it was; love. He was my brother, my family, my best friend. We got in a lot of shit together and we always trusted each other to get out of it.

And here I am, trying to replace him. To other people, its not the same. To other people, they know the feeling all too well.