Maybe Someday.

My friendship with Dan is a rollercoaster of emotions. One minute we’ll be best friends and the next, we won’t be speaking. Sometimes I question if we’re both bi-polar, but I think the dynamic of our friendship is just a bit dysfunctional in itself.

I met Dan during a rough part of my life. His outgoing and confident personality was just what I needed at the time, but as we’ve grown up, it’s become a burden to handle. I love him, but sometimes I question what it is about him that keeps me from loving him all the time.

The sky is a bright blue with hints of the orange and pink sunset starting to poke through. There’s a calm coolness in the summer air, the perfect weather for my favorite outfit: a hoodie and shorts. Dan lies next to me on the grass in the park and the overgrown blades poke into my legs.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Dan says out of the blue. He turns to face me and there’s sadness in his dark brown eyes. “We’re done with camp. We’re never going to be campers again.”

I sigh and try my best not to think about it. We still have CIT year and then there’s always the possibility of becoming a counselor.

“We’re not done with camp,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Camp’s not done with us.”

He nods, but remains silent. It’s not like Dan to be so quiet, so I push.

“What’s a’matter, Danny?” I ask, laying my head on his shoulder.

He sighs and lets his head roll to the side, meeting mine. I lace my fingers through his and give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?” He asks out of nowhere.

“I don’t know,” I answer and think hard about what I don’t like about myself. “I guess I would be a better sister. I’m not a very good role model for them, why?”

“Ask me what I would change about myself,” He instructs and I’m confused.

“What would you change about yourself?”

He sits up abruptly and un-roots a fistful of grass. “I wouldn’t be as big of an asshole.”

“Dan,” I wrap my arm around his shoulder and pull him into a hug. “You’re not an asshole.”

“People think I am,” He says. “A lot of people – I just want them to know why I am the way I am.”

I don’t even know why he is the way he is. In the nine years of our friendship, I’ve always been the one that’s being saved. Never has Dan vented to me or told me about his home life. He’s just always been the strong one.

“Then why are you like that?”

He’s still playing with the blades of grass in his fist; pulling them apart, piece by piece.

“It’s hard to do anything good in my family,” He says quietly.

I shake my head. “But you love your family.”

“I know I do, but sometimes I want to feel like I’m not the fuck up,” His usual happy demeanor has been replaced with sadness and desperation. “It’s hard to live up to Laura.”

This is the first time Dan has ever opened up to me about his family life. Sure, I’ve met them plenty of times, but never has he indicated he felt inferior or worthless.

“She graduated with a 4.0 and got a 35 on her ACT. Laura’s damn near perfect and my parents never seem to stop reminding me,” He stares off into the distance and won’t even look at me. “The only way they ever seemed to notice me, like really notice me was when I started to act out. I make friends because I’m that obnoxiously loud, confident kid and I’m not. No one really knows me except for you.”

That catches me off guard. Sure, Dan has his haters, but he also has a large group of really close friends. Hell, Dan has a group of friends from camp, our friends from camp, who I thought would know him better than I do, but I guess not.

“Well, you have me, Daniel Bailey,” I say, trying my best to reassure him. “And I’m here for you no matter what. You know that, too.”

“Thanks, Allie,” His shoulders rise and fall in a heavy sigh, but he’s still upset.

“Love you.” I say and I mean it. Sometimes I think I do love him, like right now. We have some deeper connection that I can’t understand - a connection that can withstand the test of time, distance, and broken hearts.

No matter what, we always come back to each other and that has to mean something, right?

“Love you, too.” He smiles.