And if he could only hear me, this is what I'd say

It sucks to watch a friendship die a slow and painful death.

Let me tell you about Dylan.

We met on our very first day at school, before classes even began. I was one of the first people to arrive and sit down at the student orientation, and Dylan came over, introduced himself, and without hesitation asked if he could borrow a pen and paper because he forgot to bring his. And that is pretty much sums him up right there - unbelievably confident and charismatic, and hopelessly unprepared, lacking any remote trace of discipline.

He was a drinkin', smokin', partyin' loud Newfie that worked in construction, and I was a staunch Mormon awkward intellectual. Naturally, we became the best of friends.

We took several classes together, sat side by side in many of our studios, and were always there for eachother for a second opinion on our work. We didn't hang out much outside of school - I'm not an overly social person and the bar/club/partying scene isn't my schtick. But we spent more than a couple late nights working together in the studio before the security guards kicked us out into the freezing snow so the building could be locked up through the night.

Dylan is/was the most charismatic bastard I have ever met. He's funny, in a way that's deadpan and ridiculous and never quite expected. He has a loud, deep voice that you can hear from anywhere in the room, and you can tell there's seldom a filter between his mouth and brain. He knows how to lighten up anyone's day, and be wonderfully irreverent. After one student's presentation, the prof asked if anyone in the class had comments. Without missing a beat, Dylan made this horrifically hilarious dry-heaving/vomiting impression. He immediately clarified that he was joking and though the project was awesome, but that heartbeat in-between where our staunch, fearless professor was absolutely appalled... Was priceless.

We talked about this, that, and the other. He's a big music fan, and I credit him with planting seeds in me that would grow into appreciation for the Rolling Stones, The Band, and the later works of the Beatles. One day at the end of the second year, he brought an old, beaten up acoustic guitar into the school and left it there. He'd pick it up and play, making up songs on the fly and generally using it as the best method of procrastination I've ever seen in my life. After the year finished, I was so inspired that I went out and bought myself a ukulele. I eventually became known for it in my class, and the two of us would jam during lunch or after class to kill the time. I tell you, there isn't quite a feeling like jamming with someone. Serene but fun, chaotic yet guided. It really cleared your head, and there wasn't a care in the world. I really miss those late night jams. Definitely a highlight of my time at ACAD. He even gave me the steel-stringed guitar he first learned to play on. I haven't learned to play it yet... But I know that my love for the ukulele and mandolin are absolutely a result of my time around Dylan. And I'll learn to play that finger-destroying contraption some day, no doubt. He really rekindled in me a new love for music.

Dylan was a textbook case of severe extroversion. Loathed being along, always had to have the attention of everyone in the room, and lived life by the seat of his pants. Polar opposite to yours-truly. His carelessness and general whimsical disposition had a huge impact on me and how I interact with people, too. I'm a lot more relaxed and less reserved as a result of spending a lot of time around him, and can be comfortable cracking jokes that come to mind. The man knows, consciously or otherwise, how to make a lasting impression.

He has a general love for life that I appreciate, too. He's full of vices - booze, pot, women, food. He always ate out, saying that he was on a 'hamburger diet'. He wanted to move to New York at one point (and still probably does), but he knew he couldn't afford it. I sat down with him and calculate how he could afford it within a few months if he were to cut back on eating out alone. When we were looking at the results, he turned to me with a sad sincerity in his face and told me that he just isn't that kind of person - if he has money, he's going to spend it. There's no two ways about it. And spend it he did... He probably spent more on coffee/food/smoking/drinking in one week than I do on groceries for the entire month. That's just how he is. Or was.

Did I mention that he smokes? Pot, yeah, of course. But cigarettes, too. As much as a pack a day sometimes. One in the morning, one at each break throughout the day, and one whenever he wanted to get away from his school work. It really broke my heart to see that, knowing what will surely happen a few years down the line. For his birthday one year, I got him an e-cigarette to try out. He said it was awesome and perfect and he loved it. And then it broke, and he went back to ye olde cancer sticks without looking back. Sigh. That guy.

Whereas I'm predominantly strategic in my work, he is incredibly intuitive. And talented, too. If you try to sit down with him to talk about concept and planning and all that junk, he'd waffle around endlessly. But when it came time to present at the end of the semester, he'd pull something out of his ass that was... Incredible. He was able to work in pure emotional tones that I'm totally incapable of creating. What made that frustrating is that he had the work ethic of... A slacker, for lack of a better word.

He'd do all his work in the wee hours of morning before class. Sometimes he wouldn't do it at all, and would flat-out avoid checking in with the prof to give his status report and get feedback. Again, I have to emphasize that he was talented. As in, probably one of the most talented guys in the school/program. The only reason I got better grades than him most of the time was because he didn't put the hours/dedication in to really flush out a project. I found this so upsetting, and I guess I still do. I got this scholarship to New York, which I'm really proud of and glad I received. But never even for a moment believe that I was the best candidate for it. It was Dylan, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He would have loved every inch of New York, and he would have kicked serious ass in SVA. But he never even bothered applying for scholarship. That bastard. It should've been him.

At one point, even after the scholarship application deadline had passed, he told me he was just going to apply to SVA on his own, scholarship be damned. He'd do it for sure. Of course he was going to do it. Not a doubt.

He never did it.

Dylan said he'd do a lot of things he never did. Particularly at the end of our last year.

You see, he finally got into bed with the girl he'd been crushing on since we started school together. And, well, they were practically made for eachother, I guess.

It started with him saying he'd stay that evening to help me on a project I was struggling with. Then he said he'd be in on the weekend to work. He said he was going to bring in his work on Saturday so we could shoot our portfolios together. He said that four times, and never came in once. There were half a dozen similar instances like this. But that's Dylan, and I knew he had a new girl on the line, and I guess that was to be expected. But months before graduation, I spoke with him and another classmate about going out for a straight-razor shave together before the ceremony. Date set. He was reminded again and again, it was all good.

The morning off, I got a brief text telling me that he was going to have breakfast with family instead. Damn, that hurt. Not even 24hrs notice, or a call, or anything. Less than 100 letters mere hours before we were supposed to meet up. I'd been planning this for two and a half months. I mean, hell, yeah family in town is a pretty big deal. But I thought he would've recognized that maybe it meant something to me. That maybe it meant more to me than backing out using a casual blow-off text as if the whole damn thing was just an afterthought.

We went through the ceremony and barely talked. We met up once for lunch once over the summer to catch up for a bit. We talked and ate. A mutual friend had a party coming up for her birthday/going away party. At this point I knew my whole New York scholarship was on the rails and steaming ahead, so I asked him to come so we could hang out one last time. Have one last jam together. He said of course. I asked if he was going to bail on me like he had before. He said absolutely not. I told him that I had my ticket booked, and it'd be our last chance to see eachother. He told me to relax, of course he'd be there.

I reminded him a few times over the following month, leading up to the party. Each time he confirmed he'd be there.

The party rolled around, and I lugged a bunch of instruments and music over with me. I proceeded to look like a total idiot the rest of the evening, switching between noodling on my instruments and checking the door for someone that never came. I sent him FB messages and texts, and did the same to his girlfriend, asking if/when he'd be there.

I got home that evening and yelled at him on Facebook. He claimed that he had lost his phone a few weeks prior, so he didn't get any of my messages. As if, apparently, that had voided the months of reminders leading up to the party.

I told him my address for work where I'd be for the last few days leading up to my flight out, and said that I was super busy but still wanted to see him. He said he had a gift for me, and that I'd have to come to him, and maybe we could hang out on the weekend. Which was a few days after my flight out, which I had already told him about a few times.

Finally, I asked him for his address. Things were going to be tight, but I could see about borrowing a car to at least drop in quick before I shoved off.

Message seen, but no response.

I flew out.

All I wanted was one last jam together.

We used to watch each other's backs. We jammed together. We joked about gruesomely killing ourselves, in ways that only we'd find funny. We consoled each other through our respective breakups. He once told me that if he ever got married, I'd be his best man. Not to plan the party, mind you (I'd admittedly be terrible for that kind of stuff), but to stand at his side and give a speak and all that. We pondered on the future together, and listened to some good music together, and made music together. We even recorded a song together as part of a promo animation for our class' portfolio show. The one and only track ever recorded by The Little Compositions, the band we joked about starting. We were supposed to start a studio together at one point, too.

But I know he's too big for that. You're often told that "you aren't the center of the universe, you know". Dylan, though... Is one of those people that the universe does revolve around. Long before our final semester rolled around I knew our oft-discussed studio would never happen, because Dylan would end up getting hired somewhere and doing better work than I can ever do. I'm not stupid. He was one of the most incredible people I've ever met. He captures a room like no one else, and is one hell of a designer and artist.

There was a teacher's appreciation night at a pub, for all of the profs in the program, which the students attended and paid for. At the end of it as I was about to slip out the door, Dylan caught me and told me to stay in touch. Not to drift away, like he knew I would. He told me he wouldn't have made it through the program if it wasn't for me poking and nudging him and keeping him on track along the way. I told him I don't think I would've survived if it wasn't for him. Many a lump was formed in throats at that moment. We hugged and parted ways. I knew what he said was true, that I would drift off and fade away. It was kinda tragic to have my nature laid out so plainly before me.

But damn it man, if I'm drifting away, call out for you and I throw a line at your feet, you're supposed to pick it up. Instead, time after time it snaked off the dock and into the water because you couldn't be bothered to look my way.

It goes without saying that we haven't spoken since. Last I heard, him and his girlfriend are living together and are totally absorbed in eachother. He hasn't found work yet, and is instead just freelancing if/when the opportunity arises. Sucks. He could do so much better than that, if he applied himself.

I forgave him the first time he bailed on me, and the time after that, and the time after that. I even forgave him for backing out of getting shaves together. But apparently I'm just not even worth the hassle for one last goodbye.

Yeah, sure, go ahead and tell me that I'm being whiny and butthurt and I need to suck it up like a man. It still hurts when you discover your friend, the closest friend you'd had during four years of your life simply can't be bothered to be friends any more.

Hey, Dylan. I'm really glad you and Macy are getting along so well. Sucks that you had to keep bailing on me, though. I hope you hit your stride and take the world by storm. I wish you all the best. But damnit, I'm not going to forgive you so easily for this one. But because that will take any degree of effort on your behalf and you're obviously doing well enough to not even drop me a line... I guess we're through. Sucks.

It's a sad thing to watch a relationship die. But at some point I realized I didn't want to let myself be walked over again. And what good is a friend that doesn't even want to see you?

Heh. Maybe it was about time I faced the facts and realized that finished with me some time ago, before I even left.

I was just hoping for one last jam. You know, for old time's sake.
-Cril

Will the wind that blew her boat
Across the sea
Kindly send her sailing back to me
Honey pie you are making me crazy
I'm in love but I'm lazy
So won't you please come home
Come, come back to me, honey pie

Beatles - Honey Pie