The New M.E. Generation











“Hey, do you want some dinner,” asked I. “You’re probably hungry and you still have to drive some more later.” The ‘beach guy’ agreed to that, besides, I was hungry too.

“Do you mind if I quickly dried my hair?” (What? You thought I would go anywhere looking somewhat ‘disorganized’?)

We agreed on a pizza place close by. My hair just needed some blow-drying and the location was casual, meaning I could get ready pretty fast.

I was concentrated on my hair looking at the bathroom mirror when, all of a sudden, he stands next to me. I felt like an apparition had just occurred and was I scared!

“Holy! What are you doing??”

“I just wanted to see you blow-dry your hair.”

“You scared the living daylights out of me!” It was that bad, I had to turn the blower off and face the other way for at least a minute before composing myself.

“Why did you get scared?” asked he.

“I don’t have that many visitors…” I didn’t want to say ‘men’ because I didn’t want to come across as my life has been completely deprived of that. Also, didn’t want to give away that I’ve had many situations with men, but just wanted to keep it to myself.

Besides, what’s so interesting about watching a woman blow-dry her hair? He kept looking at me as if I was doing something he’s never witnessed before.

Seriously, this guy is a doctor and is prepared to handle the worst imaginable situations. So what’s the deal with mine? Something where there’s no blood involved?

I looked back at myself on the mirror and felt different. I was looking at myself, inside and out, from a new perspective.

I didn’t felt uncomfortable, more like flattered that a guy was intrigued on what I was doing.

I put some make-up on and ran quickly to my closet to get dressed. I closed my bedroom door because it was the right thing to do. Nothing has happened before and certainly I was allowing anything to happen now.

I chose a dress and some heels, which now made me even taller than him.

“Wow, look at you, you look nice,” said he.

“Thanks,” replied I. I felt more like saying ‘I know’ because I knew that, in spite all that I’ve gone through, I looked real good.

We drove in my car and he was excited of seeing a woman drive a ‘stick shift’ vehicle. “I find a woman driving one very sexy,” said he.

I was once again flattered by his remark, but something remarkable happened. I went back in time when he took me for a drive in his Fiat.

I always wondered how it would feel if the roles were reversed. What did I feel? Towards he, nothing. Regarding myself, being on the pilot’s seat with full control of the situation, totally awesome.

I was glad this meeting finally happened to conclude this whole situation with him. But, above all, it confirmed that I’m so over him and quite calm about it.

‘Moving forward’, what gear should I shift for the rest of the night?



“Hello” and” Hello, you!” was what we said to each other while hugging at the top of the stairs.

I got slightly nervous and didn’t know what else to say besides, “sorry about the wet floor. It always happens when it’s windy and pouring rain”.

I welcomed him into my apartment; he noticed I usually leave my shoes at the entrance, so he did the same. His were very beach shoes. I didn’t like them; thought he would wear something dressier, besides a polo shirt and jeans, to see me.

The other thing that struck me was the big belly that he had. Couldn’t believe this was a guy whose physique was the envy of anyone back in the day. And now seeing him like this, as someone who ‘gave up’ on this aspect of his life, doesn’t correlate with a person I always saw as successful in anything they would set out to do.

But the most shocking thing of all occurred when I looked at him from head to toe and asked myself, ‘has he always been this short?’

I’ve never considered myself that small, more of an average height, but had always wanted a few more inches. In comparison to me, he had less the inches that I wanted to gain. Standing face to face, the disparity was obviously visible, and for the first time ever, I felt tall.

He sat down at my sofa and I on my chair. I had no idea where to start the topics of conversation, so I started with his divorce. It was still ongoing and as messy as I remembered him telling me about it.

He believes that all that really happened is that she had a mid-life crisis and now she’s doing all that she never did until today, like having a younger boyfriend, traveling, give him a hard time.

Yep, sounds sort of my story. Instead of my ‘x’ having menopause, he had ‘peckerpause’, as in thinking life was leaving him behind like a train and needed to reproduce right away. He kept the one who immediately opened her legs and gave him what he wanted.

I have made some travels and dated more than one younger man. It hasn’t been exactly great, but quite an experience indeed.

This guy also told me about his kids and how close he is to them, his parents and sibling, and how, in the future, once his kids are all grown up, would like to work abroad.

Wow, some things never change. His family was always close to each other and now he’s the same with his kids. And him planning going international, no surprise either. What he envisions, he always gets.

And while I was listening to him, that same insecure feeling I felt back then slowly resurfaced to the top. Here I am with no significant other or kids, and not exactly close or distant with my scattered family. But, worst of all, I have no idea or plans of what my future will or should be.

I’m just living life day by day and don’t give much thought about what will, or should, happen next.

I know there’s nothing wrong with that or should feel bad about it. But with this guy, as I said before, some things will always remain the same, no matter what.

Not even a historical moment like this one can fix it.



I got to my apartment as quickly as I could only to find a huge puddle of water in front of my door. The hallways are open, so if heavy rain is delivered with wind, the result will be as such.

I had no choice but to take my broom and brush away as much as I could. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The ‘beach guy’ is on his way and the first view of my residence is a huge concentration of water that almost doesn’t let you enter without wetting your shoes.

When I was done, I was exhausted and sweated, so I got into the shower and washed my hair. I still had about a 1-1/2 before his arrival, so felt I had time to relax and get ready.

I took a rest in my bed and watched some TV, all while this guy kept texting me of his location. He was indeed on his way, but I still felt it was not happening.

But in between all the excitement, I fell asleep. Between the long workweek, stress of driving, the cleaning and pending arrival had gotten the best of me.

I woke up suddenly and it was almost 9pm. I still needed to dry my hair and decide what I was to wear. I knew going out maybe wouldn’t happen, but what I wear is important to me.

And just when I was trying to do both things (surprise!), I get a call from the front gate that he had arrived. I ran to my closet and quickly chose a dress (don’t know which one).

I opened my balcony door and signaled him where to park while talking to him on the phone. Whoa, that’s some nice car he’s driving. It had a very sporty design (which reminded me of the ‘original’), but felt too gaudy for me.

He got off the car and my heart beat faster. It was one of those moments you thought over many times how you would react when it happened, but you forgot how to when reality hit.

I looked at him on his way to the entrance to my building and thought, ‘damn, he looks old and he has a belly’. Even more, he had lost quite a lot of hair and was wearing flip flops (what, you invested so much on your car you can’t afford a descent pair of shoes?).

But that’s me; everything I wear has to coordinate or have a reason to be worn. For him, he’s still stuck with the laid back mood of the beach.

“Hey, you made it,” said I. “Take the stairs below to the second floor.” This is all I could say. I had no makeup and my hair was not blow-dried. My dress and shoes were fine, but perhaps not the best for this ‘20+ years to happen’ moment.

Ah, who cares? Why do I have to be so exact?



The next day at work on a Friday I started thinking about how the situation had unfolded the day before.

I know I did the right thing by turning him down, but I also realized this was probably the last chance of ever seeing him again face to face.

Reality is, the only way to ever finalize the past and present was to confront him and all my emotions.

So, if getting to where he will be is not an option, how about telling him to make a first stop on my end, and then later he continues to his final destination?

‘Hey, I was thinking, how about if you came over first, maybe have some dinner, and then you go?’ text I.

It didn’t take long for him to reply. ‘I thought I needed to resolve my issues with my girlfriend,’ replied he.

‘I know, but this will probably be the last chance we have of seeing each other,’ said I.

‘Yeah, I could do that,’ said he. ‘What time do you get out of work?’

‘No later than 6:30 p.m. What time would you get here?’

‘Around 8:30-9 p.m. Text me your address so I can set it on my GPS.’

It was only about 12 p.m., so it meant he was to leave around 4 p.m. if he wanted to avoid Friday’s traffic jam, especially coming into my city.

I asked him to text me once he was on the road and subsequent locations as his trip advanced.

I kept on working as usual until around 4 p.m. when the local weather decided to work against me when it delivered massive amounts of rain.

It got so dark it looked like it was late at night. Damn, now this means traffic is really going to get bad for me and (hopefully not) for him.

I hurried to finish my work on time and rushed out the door at my usual leave time. The rain had stopped and everyone driving were doing the ‘are we there yet?’.

My plan was to get home, shower and wear something appropriate for the occasion or, better yet, something that really represented who I was and not what he probably still has stuck on his mind about me.

So, what’s is it going to be? How about high school sweetheart turned prom queen diva? Yeah, it’s personal and I’ve got the clothes and shoes to make it happen.



The ‘beach guy’ told me the location of the seminar, which is about at least a 3-hour drive. And if I was to drive on a Friday after work, who knows what the ETA would be.

Then there was the situation that I would get there late on Friday evening and then he would be at the seminar the whole next day. What the hell was I to do? Lounge at the pool?

And what about Sunday? Was he staying all weekend or driving back home right after the event was over?

So, in other words, his plan is to go through all that effort, including a nasty traffic on the highway, plus a good chunk of gas, in exchange of a few hours meeting to learn if ‘there’s still some chemistry here?’

Even more, there was another issue that was going around my mind. ‘Where you will be is not that close to me,’ wrote I on my text. ‘Even with no traffic it would be at least 3-hours drive. And, yes, I had basically written you off.’

That’s what it meant, literally, since our last ‘conversation’ was through texts because he never answered my calls.

‘Another thing,’ continued I, ‘what’s the deal with your girlfriend?’

‘We’re still together,’ said he, ‘but things are not doing well at all.’

No kidding. So I am now like a generic medication. You want to try this, plus the real thing, and see which gives you the best results for your problem.

I wasn’t surprised at what he told me, but still managed to get me somewhat upset. I think it had to do more with getting flashbacks to the past than getting dumped for someone else.

It was more of a realization that it wasn’t all that about what I felt about him in high school, but that then and now, the guy was just playing games with me and used me for his convenience, him knowing well how I felt about him.

‘I don’t like when guys dump me and then reappear,’ wrote I. ‘I’m not here for people to use me as leverage to compare their feelings.’

‘You’re right. I need to figure out or resolve my relationship. Maybe another time will be better.’

Yeah, like, when? When the ocean drags you in and washes you out?

Not even the strongest medication can alter the side effects of what I’m feeling inside towards you.

The best prescription for all these guys doing the same thing: take a daily of dose of patience, mixed with good self-esteem and love of oneself. Swallow slowly and wait for all to go away (men included).



It was around the end part of my workday on a Thursday when I got a text message from a guy I had long forgotten, including deleting from my social media profiles.

Want to guess who it is? Clues include unanswered calls, always addressing you over a text message, endless excuses for not coming over to visit you.

If you guessed the ‘beach guy’, you’re right.

“Hey, you probably have written me off by now,” read his text. I will be at a seminar on Saturday. Don’t know how far the location is from you. But would be nice if you came this way and saw you. Maybe there’s still some chemistry here.”

This is another situation that has become recurrent in my relationship with men. After they dump me for someone else and drop off the radar, they re-emerge when their current relationships sucks big time.

And, of course, the reason for why it’s happening is always placed on their counterparts. According to them guys, it’s beyond complicated. The females turn out to be psychos or the next incarnation of Godzilla.

These idiots turn me down because of some recycled excuse that they can’t even explain themselves (“I have a lot on my plate right now; my kids take a lot of my time; I’m going through an existential crisis”, etc.), to later ‘realize’ they haven’t quite forgotten me.

That’s how it is; women that are easy to deal with and control, gives you no problems, plus gives you good bedding, is what guys want, that is, until the females turn against you with nasty rampages or stalking.

This is followed by ‘I don’t know how to get out of this relationship’ and look for any reason to escape their situation.

What I want to know from all this is: what did you do that has turned these women into unrecognizable creatures?

Wait, have I turned into something I’m not aware of? What can I compare myself to? Or, what would I wished I could be in regards to the guys?

Probably a supernatural entity like a ghost, so I can appear on their dreams and scream at them, “You’re a major a-hole!!!”

This way they will never, ever forget me, and my presence will hunt them forever. Sounds like a bad horror movie that just refuses to end.



This guy returned my call around 3-4pm that Saturday. He sounded like he was running 100 miles a minute. He explained that on Saturday afternoons he works as a personal trainer on a gym and was still at that, but wanted to touch base with me before it got later in the day.

Well, that’s nice of him, I think. It was a weird feeling having so much politeness from a young guy like him. Wait, let me rethink this again. Many of the guys I’ve met started out as that, being well mannered and behaving the way I like guys to do.

But after the first encounter, their true beings slowly, and surely, emerge. Reality is they were very smart. They somehow managed to figure it out and mold their personas to make it appealing to me. It is so well crafted, I actually believe there is a possibility that I have finally met a good guy.

So, why am I fooling myself? This guy is probably trying to lure me into the sack. But I’ll give him credit that he works out and knows that if it’s such the case, he better have something worth my attention.

Hearing his voice felt fine. It was one of those occasions when you get a good vibe in the first few minutes of talking to someone.

The only thing that raised a red flag was that he had a ‘jumpy’ tone or talking perhaps a little too fast for me. But this is no surprise since his schedule is filled to the rim. He probably needs that adrenaline rush to be able to pull it all off.

He suggested meeting at 8pm at a bar of my choice. In other words, he was leaving it for me to decide.

I liked that because I was still keeping control of the situation. Meeting him up at the location is an example of that. And, of course, I was not going to put myself in a situation that I know I shouldn’t be.

But I lost control of my thoughts when he asked me what bar it would be. I couldn’t remember the last time I was in one with a guy all by myself.

And what would I talk about? What do I really have to say to him? Is this all going to end sort of bad like my other experiences?

Let’s calm down and control my anxiety level. Let me think about (or put my energy) into something else, like, what am I going to wear?

Now that’s a stressful situation!



Surprisingly, he replied a few hours later. ‘I don’t mind what you said. I actually want to meet you. I haven’t mentioned it before because I want to be available when we agree on it.’

I thought his reply sounded reasonable, so I felt the next step would be the right one: asking him for his number.

This would allow me to text him whenever I felt it was time to go out with him, if I got to that point. I could also control the situation and test his patience. I wanted to see how serious he was and how long he was willing to wait for the meeting.

So not wanting to come across as desperate, I waited until the next day to ask for his mobile. He gave it to me about 2 weekdays later around some odd hour when I was already sleeping.

I waited about a week to go by and emailed him on a Saturday morning about just having drinks that night and each traveling to the location separately.

He declined, as he was supposedly complicated that day. Not caring if it was true or not, I waited another week and did the same. This time he wrote he was available.

I then called him that day around 12pm to secure a plan for the night. I then realized I hadn’t given him my name.

He text back to meet at a bar some time after 8pm and that he would call me after finishing work to discuss.

All right, let’s wait and see if he actually follows what he says. And if he does, then I will slightly reschedule my afternoon to include some walking, resting and doing my hair.

Yep, no matter what, you have to look your best, because if not, you’ll end up crossing paths with all the people you don’t want to, especially those of ‘my past life’.

And if it happens with this guy, the gossip will surely reach the ears of some very particular people, which I wouldn’t mind.

Even if this outing ends in nothing, being seen with a much younger and cute guy is starting to sound like a good idea.

Interesting thought considering those people probably never expected much of me after the split. Fact was, they never cared to really know me, so it would be a total shocker.

I would love to see their faces, but, actually, no. I hate putting up a show for whatever the reason. What matters is that I’m living life the way I want to, with all its challenges and adventures.

At the end of the day, I’m the one who’s dealing with all the good and bad, the ups and downs, and all the responsibilities that go with it.

Getting back to dealing with this 20-something, no worries here.



‘So I guess you wouldn’t be interested in meeting me? Seems that your previous experiences weren’t good’, read his message.

For being written at such an early morning time, the depth of the content surprised me. I think any other guy would have already suspended communication.

But, above all, it was what he questioned that hit me. I know he meant the younger men, but has there been someone really worth remembering?

My mind went blank right away thinking on this.

Yes, that’s how bad these relationships have been. There may have been positives on them, but it’s not really something that I would share with others, not even for gossip or as a learning lesson.

I also know each person deserves a break and be treated differently, without using other people as comparison to decipher them.

And he approached me, which is totally different from me chasing others in the past.

But, again, is this worth engaging at, even via emails?

‘It is not if I want to meet you or not, but whether it’s worth doing it. I guess we will never know until we go out’, replied I.

I sent the message and sometime later I regretted what I said. I checked my message and he hadn’t responded to it.

‘Disregard what I said before. It sounds as if I was imposing on you. Seeing each other depends if we both feel comfortable in doing so. I’m totally fine if it doesn’t happen’.

I hate to admit that I have a curiosity to meet him, but it’s probably more for the ‘thrill of the adventure’, which in my world has always led to crash and burn.

So, am I taking the jump or not?



et cetera
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