PART ONE

 

 

 

II

 

 

nne was a fine girl. She was sweet, intelligent, ambitious of soul, and energetic in her curiosity. I'll say she was attractive but she did not attract me. This is said as my former self is moving through the Palazzo to where she stood shrieking my name in delighted surprise. At some level my life's path certainly carved out a straight downhill road toward her from time to time so perhaps it is correct to say that I appeared to be metaphysically attracted to her. Her body collided into mine with an enthusiastic hug. Regrettably, my response to this affection was to pointedly not return the hug and begged off on account of my baggage load. This was no reflection of my affection but is instead a manifestation of my mannerism which leaves me loathe to physicality.
 
She was, of course, obliged to ask "What are you doing here?" and followed it up with "Its great to see you!" and I countered in kind. In little time we were settling back into the banter and synergy of old friends. We began walking then to her apartment after she had, as I had hoped, insisted that I stay with her and her roommate for a time.
 
"Maria won't mind you at all. I just had to put up with her lay-about boyfriend (now ex-boyfriend) for two weeks so she won't be able to complain."
 
 I was able to then enjoy an exciting telling of a sordid, dysfunctional affair that ended in anger and self-loathing for all the title characters though thankfully Anne was but a bit player in this Romance and was able to regale the tale with cheerful enthusiasm and wry embellishments the likes of which I am in no ways capable of recalling nor leastwise emulating and you, the reader, are most assuredly the more impoverished for the not knowing of it for it received belly laughs and compliments from this weary (yet sustained) traveler but were I to even waft what wee details of it that I recollect onto these pages you'd undoubtedly be but more enticed for Anne was not uncommon in her ways of finding pleasure in celebrating the investigation of the lives and lore of her friends and even, indeed, those of complete strangers though she did pursue peculiar aspects of this fascination with all of those who shared in her universe in that she would at times, in the night, be taken by the desire to wander off the road of a sudden and look for ways to trespass upon the private affairs of strangers within their homes and I, being her friend, had been induced to accompany her on a few of these voyeuristic excursions some of which took us to climbing fences and crawling through back yards and all the while she would maintain absolute innocence and a seemingly healthy, good-natured approach to her foible such that one of my fondest memories of her is to see her bright red cheeks and flashing, laughing green eyes illuminated by the moon in back of some manse in the town of M_________ after we had spent some time watching a family watching their television and thinking ourselves so very much the richer than they in our viewing experience in this instant.
 
She was the sort of girl who so loved to read that so she did yearn to write and she so yearned that she would be forever creating stories and narratives for all she saw. The world she inhabited was one of rich intrigues, high Romance, and splendidly adored finite details. A great many people live their lives satisfied by the image of some Divine being crafting the world for man to exist within. For Anne and those of her ilk, the world is made by writers. Every new moment is the product of gilded craftsmanship. Narratives run their course through the lives of us all and our paths are marked for us not by anything other than what the tale requires and what the crafter believes will mark the days as the finest possible tale.
 
More than crossing paths on the banks of the Arno, for Anne we were two fascinating characters coming together to further some larger plot and explore new variations on themes we had already encountered in our lives. In this light, we become heroes for the now and our petty, pseudo-intellectual offerings become the gist of the volume and gain both gravitas and veritas in the process. That is not to say that our lives were aggrandized unduly (nor duly) but rather her perspective performed the all-too-oft-missed duty of setting stock on everything that we said and did. It wove into the fabric of our days a pattern of themes and tones that we'd not have otherwise have sensed let alone appreciated.
 
It is a form of existentialism to determine that you are a character in a grand story and that all of your actions weigh heavy upon the tale that your days will tell. What is your story? What are the themes and the insights to be found upon the pages that are your years? Is it a tragedy? Is it consistent and is it passionate? Would you, reading the story of your life, be swept up in events and find yourself unable to put down the book? Anne, each and every day, was both writing and reading her life story and it was a sublimely beautiful tale (what I read of it).
 
Paused on the Ponte Vecchio, we took the time to smile for there is no finer place to pause as it is quite impossible to fully arrest one's own progress there and you will always move on after exactly the right amount of respite. The shops were all closed at this hour but the spiritual echoes of the day's tradings still haunted the magical place. So many, so very many years of energy could not be silenced by silence.
 
With my load shifted and resettled, we continued on our way while I ventured onto the subject of her own dalliances into the affections of men which shortly induced her to confirm that I understood that I would be sleeping on the couch while she would not to which I issued certain assurances that she confessed were unnecessary as it was confirmed that we were but comrades and this, in turn, encouraged her to convey that she was working her way back into the arms of Bear after a long winter without. She and he had been on and off for years and years and I certainly never took a liking to him. It was not as a competitor that I disregarded him but instead as a character that was neither well enough defined nor well enough endowed with wit to make for an intriguing foil to Anne's being.
 
The burly man of her heart though did not dwell in Florence so my friend was reduced to longings, which were only marginally met, by regular correspondence and irregular relocations. To this I offered my sympathies appropriately, which understandably inclined her to enquire into the hills and valleys of my own misadventures of late in love.
 

 

III