Gone Away
Jospeh Halpern
We all knew this day was coming. We just didn’t know when. He’s dead now, so everyone can stop holding their breath. Everyone can stop wishing that he’ll come back, everyone can just move on with their lives. It sounds cruel but I accepted his faith a long time ago. Even when everyone else still had hope. In fact the first person to truly realize that this was to be was him. He said it himself. It was all a matter of time.
Months ago when I still lived with the family Dan would practice with his band in the garage and I would bring out the cow bell for a laugh or do backing vocals. I was good at both but never really essential, he respected me because I could write songs. Lyrics that is, he knew about music and guitar solos but he could never write lyrics. It was his own fault, he kept trying to rhyme with the word orange. I knew better, and I never particularly liked rhymes.
So I would write them, he would sing them, and the band would play. It had perks like how they would sneak me into bars with the band and there was never a lack of people around. That was Dan for you, everyone in the room gravitated toward him. His smile, his movie star good looks, and his incredible music talents made him hard to ignore. Girls loved him; I always laughed a little when they called him a poet.
The band was doing great but it was never enough to stop what was happening. A lot of so-called geniuses had what Dan had and just like them he didn’t seek help. I remember it angered him whenever I mentioned it, but it was true. He suffered from bipolar disorder, a mental condition that causes extreme mood swings. One minute he would be playing with the band, smiling, laughing, and the next he would be in the bathroom crying. After he quit the band I figured he would do something crazy. As his brother I was the only one who knew about his condition and it was most likely my fault for not telling anyone. But he wouldn’t let me. He didn’t pawn his guitar like I half-expected instead he gave it to me which was the next worst thing.
I knew he was going to do something drastic. I waited for weeks thinking what it could be but every option ended up with him dead. He shocked everyone when he said he wanted to go to Iraq but we knew that we couldn’t stop him. He sporadically wrote to say how he was doing.
He needed to find himself he said. He liked the country and the people seemed to really like Canadians. He wrote about how he would entertain the rest of the guys with the acoustic guitar I had bought him for his birthday. I don’t remember which birthday but I was glad he still had it. He said he hadn’t had to kill someone yet and that he was dreading that day. I knew he couldn’t do it.
His letters got darker and darker until I could no longer read them. All he saw was death, all he wanted to do was die. If he didn’t kill himself then he would definitely get killed in the war. At least now everybody thinks he was a hero.
He died in a bombing. I still remember the last line of the last letter I ever got from him. He wrote, "I want to leave."
At least I got to read his letters, in the old days the military used to censor them but now they have blogs to worry about. Apparently those are much more dangerous. The military didn’t care that he wanted to kill himself.
When he died the band came around to pay their respects. They played one of his songs at the funeral and asked me if I wanted to be in the band. I knew it was what Dan would have wanted. Jeff the drummer is now the lead singer and I continue to write lyrics and play rhythm guitar.
“I knew all along,” Jeff said.
“Yeah? About his bipolar?”
“Uh-huh. He told me one day after I found him crying in my bathroom and I asked why.”
“That sounds like him.”
“Do you think that’s why he left?”
“I know it is.”
“A real shame. He was a natural talent. Even wrote a song once.”
“Yeah? How’d that work out?”
“It turns out you can’t rhyme with orange.” We both laughed at that and then felt slightly bad about laughing at a funeral.
“I kept telling him but he’d never listen.”
“The band wasn’t the same without him, or without you.”
“Well, at least I’ll be back.”
“It’ll be great for all the old fans to see you again.”
“He was the real star.”
“Yeah, but he couldn’t string two words together to save his life. But everyone loved him.”
“Still do. I got to go now so call me when rehearsals are on.”
“Of course, talk to you later. Tell your mom we send our condolences.”
“Yeah, see you later.” The band wasn’t the same but it felt good to be with old friends and to be playing gigs again. Dan would’ve wanted that.
