Page 44 of Lying Hearts

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Annie

Asking myself the big question: Why am I here?

When I first got back to San Francisco, I rented the apartment in The Mission District. I furnished it sparingly with plans to add more as I searched estate sales for gems, saving money and finding a more eclectic mess of belongings that spoke specifically to my tastes.

Then during the first week back, I went to my old campus to walk around. I wanted to reframe my memories. It was hard walking through the place where I’d felt so differently than I feel today, so alone and sooooooo different.

Greeting me on campus was the usual chaos of young people heading in different directions, all with their own styles, groups, and focus. I walked slowly, seeing a lot of memories replay themselves. Like at the bench where Corinne and I laughed while she told me about Johnny, the guy she nailed in the library who wouldn’t stop following her afterward. We’d looked over and seen him standing behind a building, poking his head out at exactly that moment. We’d cracked up, which made him feel miserable. He stopped following her after that. Which was even funnier.

I passed by Drama next, thinking of the complete disaster that had been for me back then. My inability to talk to people had made performing pretty much impossible. I thought it might be the opposite because at the time I had a love for all things Tim Burton and felt if he – a man who seemed to be very quiet and introverted, too – could branch out creating films like he did, maybe I could do something like that. It didn’t work out that way. I could barely speak on stage and was often whispered about by girls who looked like I do now. A pang of anger stabs me every time I think of shit like that. I would never do what they did to me. That stuff scars you for life, and fuck them for being like that.

On purpose, I went to the spot I used to hide in there, pretending to read a book. What I had really been doing was pumping myself up to go inside and join in… but failing every time.

So I stopped there to take a moment and reframe that memory. I imagined myself just as I was back then, but this time walking in the door and being greeted by friends who wanted me to do a scene with them, who’d thought of the perfect part for me to play. As I imagined this reframed moment, the weight left me and I could see it all as if it had really happened that way. It helped the pit of regret loosen its hold.

I did this to let go. I’d read somewhere that the past is all in our heads. It’s no longer happening. It’s not real. So if we can reframe it, rewrite it with a better outcome, we can release the bond it has. I was skeptical it would work, but going to the campus that day, I felt better.

Next I went to that fateful hallway. The one where I thought Brendan said hi to me, but it turned out he really didn’t. I ignored the people walking by in present day, and stood off to the side with my back against a wall. I focused and saw again Brendan at age twenty-two when I was only twenty. Saw how it really happened, how he’d looked my way with recognition in his eyes, how he’d smiled and said it. Hey. I saw the real memory of me lifting my hand, eyes lighting up with surprise as I returned Hey… before Mark passed me, walking up from behind and joining Brendan. How they’d turned without seeing me and walked off together. How I stood staring at them in the crossroads of this hall, feeling like I didn’t exist. I’ll never forget hearing Mark boastfully say, When are you going to get rid of your girlfriend and come out with us. Last night was amazing. It’s why I call him Jerkoff Mark because what kind of idiot hopes to break up a happy couple?

Standing there watching the ghosts, I felt my heart pull in my chest as if I was back there again. I couldn’t go on living with that feeling. I wasn’t hiding anymore and I no longer wanted to see myself as invisible. No one was going to heal me, but me.

So I took a deep breath and imagined the scene again, allowing it to shift.

This time I pictured Brendan stop and say, Hey. I again saw me surprised, lifting up my hand and saying it back. I saw him smile and walk to me this time. What’s you name? I saw me push my long, stringy black hair behind my ear and quietly answer, Annie. I saw him nod, his forehead pushed up and in with thoughts and ideas that were only his. Then I let my imagination paint the rest of the scene, going where my heart guided it.

You know what Annie?

No, What?

I’m sorry I didn’t see you, but we’re going to meet again years from now. In a bar here in the city. You own the place. And we’ll be different then. Right now we’re just kids.

A bar? Could I own a bar? Where had that idea come from? I focused again.

Yeah?

Yeah. So let this one go, okay? I didn’t know any better. And to be fair, you were kind of lurking in the shadows.

Then I saw him walk and join Mark again, but this time Brendan looked over his shoulder and waved to me. See you then, he said.

I let them vanish. Reality quickly swarmed back into focus. I stayed there, soaking it in, letting the past fall off me as strangers passed in present day. Did I feel better? I had to admit, I did. But the real surprise was the inspiration that had come out of nowhere.

I pushed off the wall and walked off the grounds for the last time, daydreaming about it all the way home. Could I own my own bar? I learned a lot from managing the one I worked at in Tuscany. Having my own business certainly goes with my personality. I’m not a fan of authority, and I do think differently than most, so maybe having my own thing is the perfect job for me.

Then, walking around Mission Street three days later, I came across a For Lease sign in the window of a closed and empty bar. Had I not gone to campus, that sign might never even have registered. I might have just passed by it like I’ve passed by so many other improbable opportunities.

Thrilled, I practically ran across the street to look inside the window. The red paint and gaudy sign would have to go, but there was huge potential. A nice bar top was already set up. It had a thick layer of dust, but was perfectly serviceable otherwise. There would be no need for costly reconstruction. There were black booths and red walls. I stared at them, picturing the coat of paint I could put in their place.

How much fun would it be to get my hands dirty on a project of my own? I could do this! My own place!

Instantly, I knew what I would call it.

Le Barré - The Bar, in Italian.

It sounds elegant, but really it’s just a basic everyday word. Kind of like me; I look pretty good, but really I’m just a dork who found out how to use makeup and wear better clothes.

Le Barré. I loved it!

Turning tonight, I look around my bar. My reframed memory came true. Even Brendan and I meeting came true. If I’d have known it would have, I’d have added, and then we’ll fall in love. Something to ensure he would have come back tonight.

With a deep breath in, I call out, “Okay, Manny let’s cover the bottles.”

“It’s locked?”

“It’s locked.”

I just want to go home.