The New M.E. Generation











{December 6, 2008}   You Can Be My Hero 12 – What we house within us

“All right, just follow me,” Brian said. He explains where he lives, but I can’t recall if I’ve ever been in that part of ‘the city’ in the 13 years I’ve lived here.

I followed him on my car and he takes a route that seemed somewhat long for me. I was hoping I wouldn’t loose track of him because, otherwise, I don’t think I would be able to find my way back home.

After a short drive later and having arrived at his place, I get a tour of his residence (like that of the fire station) in about 15 minutes or less. His apartment is a 2/1, with a kitchen, living, family room and den, with, I guess, about 1,500 sq. ft. My place is a 1/1, which I believe is not bigger than 1,000 sq. ft.

The place looked to me like a bachelor pad; not much furniture, just the essentials, and in need of adding some color to the walls (they’re white) or a design that would brighten it up a little bit.

I’m thinking what palette would look good here when Brian shows me the most ‘colorful’ room of the apartment: the den. This is the one that he calls ‘the petting zoo,’ which houses about five different reptiles, among them a snake and a lizard.

He took one by one out of their boxes and showed them to me.
“Here, touch it,” he would say.
My eyes opened wide and I putted my hands behind my back.
“Oh, c’mon, go ahead, it doesn’t bite!” he continued.
(And what is it actually capable of, if I may ask??)
I love animals like Dr. Dolittle does, but my adventurous side once again disappeared into the horizon.

I finally moved one of my hands and with just one finger, barely touched the creature.
(Yuck! It feels stone cold and rubbery. Is it dead??)
“It’s quite something,” is all I could say.
“Well, they’re really my kids. But I like them, they’re actually cool,” he concluded.
(You can say that again.)

After the mini ‘Jurassic Park’ exhibit was over, he showed me his other new acquisition, a laptop computer. ‘Now that’s something I can put my fingers on,’ I thought to myself.

We sat on the couch and, like with the phone, he showed me all the things it could do. While playing around with it, he also shared with me how he ended up in the apartment when his break-up occurred.

In his case, his ex kept the house and he moved out. It basically boiled down that she stopped loving him. It was exactly like my story, but in reverse.

He expressed that for some time he did miss the house after he left it. The apartment is not even a fraction of the space he had before, but he is comfortable where he is right now, in every sense of the word.

He has let go of the past (including his divorce) and has no regrets. In other words, he is happy and wouldn’t live his life in any other way.

I’m staring at the computer screen but my outlook is different. I’m still missing my former house and not all completely over my divorce.

On the other hand, my apartment is also a fraction of what I used to have as a home, but it’s mine. I answer to nobody but myself and I know I’m now in a much better place than in many instances of my past marriage. I’ve moved on in having no regrets whatsoever about anything and, in my own way, I am at peace with m.e.

Does this mean I’m happy? Um, I think I’m getting there.

At this moment, I’m just that for being here sitting next to Brian.

It’s good enough for now, for today, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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