It's me, again. Well, I cranked my stereo today to the point where I thought the speakers would shatter and the neighbors would complain. Talking to Daniel is a stress-free activity, usually...you just sit there, make eye contact and shut up, listening to everything he says. Then you say, "Daniel, I'm sorry," and you go on your merry way. I realized recently that that doesn't work on people who are hyper-sensitive and pretty much know what their best friends are thinking. And I learned the hard way.
This afternoon around lunchtime Daniel asked me, "Ben, you're my best mate, right?"
And duh, what other answer for that would there be? "Of course, Daniel. What do you think?"
"I don't know anymore. I don't think I have anyone. I know you all are tired of my bullshit and I'm tired of it too."
I looked at Daniel, knowing my friend was down to very low weight and now clumps of his hair were falling out, new large chunks every day. He wasn't healthy and he needed me more than ever before. But what was I to say? "Daniel, I'm sorry. I'm not tired of you...I just don't know how to help you."
"Well first of all," stated Daniel, "you can stop with the fake sympathizing. I don't fall for it. And secondly, I don't want you to do anything but start practicing. Dust the cobwebs off your drum kit."
My eyes widened at that. "What?"
Daniel heaved a sigh. "Ben, I have written so much shit over the past like, six months, that it makes me want to bawl everytime I open a notebook. I have way too much welling up inside. I need to get it out. Can I call up Watto and set up a meeting, please?"
I couldn't believe it. Daniel wanted to play again. And right now he was portraying the side of him he wanted me to see...the lonely, confused, introverted Dan. But I knew how he felt. He wanted to get back out on the road, feel alive again, have people watching him do what he always wanted to do. Have people realize he has a talent for his biggest passion. What an advantage to life that was. He was great at what he loved doing the most and he was lucky enough to make a career out of it. Daniel was becoming himself again.