The Other Side Of The Lies. Callie Ansar
He picked me up and we drove to a park near my house. I had a very nonchalant attitude as we made small talk. Once he dove into the Mexico story, I began to feel a little sick but held my ground. He explained that I was the only girl he had been with in almost two years, and although he loved me, he couldn’t help but be attracted to the women there. He said he was drunk and got high with that girl before they had sex, which I already knew, but it sounded different now. His words were more sincere this time around. I didn’t only listen, but I heard him as he told me how losing me had turned his world upside down. He told me how much he still loved me and that he’d love to give our relationship another try.
I responded by telling him that I still had more respect for myself than he would ever have for me. I also told him that although his confession touched me, I was not interested in having a relationship with someone who did that to me. We agreed to end things on a good note and be friends because it would be nice to see a friendly face around campus once in a while.
I left David that night with feelings of mixed emotions. I didn’t hate David, it was what he did to me that I hated. I hated the scorned person that his actions had turned me into. His admission of still having feelings for me made me feel good in a way, because at least I knew I was desirable to someone.
I never did hear from Ramsey again. Not before he left for school, not before I started school, not even just to say hi. Not a beep to let me know he was thinking about me that summer. Nothing. Never again. It was over the months that passed that I realized Ramsey was right when he told me that David had merely cracked me because it was he who completely shattered me.
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“Wow, Karen, that’s so messed up,” Ethan said. “But now I see where the name of the center came from.”
I smiled at him, “Yes, Ramsey’s Rescue is named after him. Good job putting those pieces together.”
Ethan let out a hardy laugh. “So he broke your heart that bad that you decided to make a living helping to recover addicts? Was he even really an addict? He was a kid. It just doesn’t make sense to me,” he said.
“It will,” I said. “Let’s keep going. Let’s jump to 1998…..”
1998
The screech of the subway brakes got my excitement going when I jerked forward as the train came to a stop.
“Grand Central Station,” announced the conductor over the loud speakers. With the opening of the doors, Christine, Jessie, and I walked up the crowded subway stairs until we saw the light from Grand Central Terminal. Although I’d been through Grand Central many, many times before, I always marveled at the beauty of it. As we exited the building and stepped out on the street, the city was full of life. I pulled the opening of my green jacket closed to shield myself from the cold winter air.
“Come on, we have to go this way,” Jessie said, pointing to her right. We needed to get to Fifth Avenue in order to see the parade.
My friends and I had decided to skip our classes at school that day so we could head into the city and go to the St. Paddy’s Day parade. We traveled north once we got to Fifth Avenue and made our way through the crowd at 44th Street. I didn’t think it would be possible for us to get all the way in front of the crowd, but three pretty girls amongst a sea of mostly men had its advantages. We flashed our smiles and put on the charm as we sweetly excused ourselves passed everyone. We squeezed among all of the Irish folks cheering, and although I felt like a sardine, it was one hell of an experience. We couldn’t help but cheer as well as the procession marched by us, and we had way too many laughs wondering what was under all of the kilts that we saw. But finally, with the passing of the last person, we squeezed right passed all of those Irish folks once again.
Fifth Avenue was holding more than its capacity and we couldn’t get out of there fast enough. We headed up to a bar on Madison and 51st Street for a pub crawl that we had heard about. The end of the crawl would leave us on Madison and 43rd, which was right by Grand Central Station, and our means of transportation home.
Once we arrived at O’Connors, we walked to the end of the long line of people waiting to get in. “Think our I.D.’s are gonna work?” Christine asked, rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Of course they’re gonna work. We got them from the best guy around,” Jessie answered her. “Besides, it’s St. Paddys Day. I don’t think they really care anyway.”
The time went quickly as we stood in the cold, conversating with our fellow crawlers. I was caught by surprise when I heard the bouncer say, “I.D. please,” in his very deep voice.
I flashed him a smile and grabbed my new fake license out of my bag. A few years ago, I would have never been able to pull something like this off. I would have been scared and self conscious and the bouncer would have seen right through my lie. But not now. College had changed me, a lot. The first few months I was there I moped around, still overly depressed about Ramsey. Once I started meeting new people, especially guys, something changed in me. I had been healing from my heartbreak and my scars demanded that I be a more confident, self loving person, and so I did.
The bouncer took one look at the license and one look at me. He handed it back to me and said, “Make sure you get your bracelet inside.”
“Will do,” I said as I flashed him another smile and disappeared inside with my friends.
Green plastic bracelets were placed around our wrists after we paid a pretty lady with a shamrock painted on her cheek, thirty dollars each.
“Holy shit, it’s so crowded in here,” Jessie shouted to us over the loud music. “How are we gonna get to the bar?”
“I’ll go,” I said. Being the only native Queens girl, it was assumed that I was the toughest out of the three of us. “You guys stay right here. Don’t move.” I didn’t need to ask what they wanted because the thirty dollars that we paid only included tap beer, which was colored green for the day. I must have said excuse me twenty two times before squeezing between a blubbering brunette and a very handsome gentleman, once I finally reached the ledge of the bar.
Slurring, the brunette said, “You’re gonna be waiting a while, honey. The bartender hasn’t been down this end in a while.”
I let out an aggravated sigh as the handsome stranger standing on the other side of me leaned down and said, “Don’t listen to her. He will be down here any minute. That girl is wasted. It’s actually pretty funny.” He was tall, blonde and blue. Not my typical type, but he’d do for the day.
I chuckled at his comment and said, “Cool. I’m Karen by the way.”
“Mike,” he said back, with a big smile on his face. “You here for the crawl?”
I lifted my arm up to show him my bracelet and said, “Yeah, you?”
He, in turn, showed me his green bracelet and my wheels started turning. Now a days when I met a guy, my antennas always went up wondering if he’d be worth my time. This guy seemed decent and he was pretty cute so he was worth a shot.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender shouted.
“Three beers for me,” I said, and Mike looked at me with the same expression he had as he was regarding the brunette. “They’re not all for me,” I said, “my friends are over there, somewhere.”
“Cool, mine are too. I’ll help you with your drinks”
I threw a five on the bar for the bartender and grabbed two of the green beers, Mike taking the other one. It was torture trying to get through the crowd on my own. Add a couple glasses of beer to the equation and it felt like an impossible feat. Seeing my frustration when everyone ignored my polite pleas to move aside, Mike scooted in front of me and took the lead. I liked that.
When I finally spotted Jessie and Christine, Mike was a few steps in front of me. I lifted my leg and gave him a light kick in the butt to get his attention.