The New M.E. Generation











{December 21, 2015}   The Ex-Friend 15 – Serve it straight up

I was really excited for my friend coming over to celebrate my birthday. The plan was that he would arrive Thursday night, since I was getting an early dismissal at work on Friday. He was to use airline passes, so traveling standby was the way to go.

He went straight to the airport after work and text me with updates. He had to take 2 airplanes and fortunately made it getting on board in both.

‘Thank God I got the last seat. I put it in his hands and it happened,’ read his text. I was happy for him, but also getting annoyed that he was using the almighty to justify everything he did or happened to him.

Don’t get me wrong; I think people should ‘believe’ in something, but luck also plays an important role.

He landed close to midnight. I was resting in bed, quickly changed, and went to pick him up.

As I was pulling in at the airport terminal and saw him, my emotions hit me. I hadn’t seen him in years and it showed.

He had gray hair, some beard, more weight than I remembered him for, but most of all, his clothes looked sad. His pants were big on him and his shirt one that have had better days. Plus, he was wearing a Bluetooth. Who has one of those nowadays? So not fashionable.

Back when we were adolescents, our parents didn’t had that much, but we both always managed to look our best within a budget.

“Look at you, always so pretty!!” said he when we hugged. This is one of those comments I remember him for, considering I wasn’t even wearing make-up and my hair was somewhat messy. I literally had the look of someone ‘who just go out of bed’.

From there I took him to eat something where we finally had a chance to talk. He commented I looked thin, but in a good way. That year and the one before had been much difficult and I was going through a bad funk that he knew all too well.

I tend not to eat a lot when feeling sad and he was obviously doing the opposite, in spite of him walking for hours on end the days he wouldn’t go to church.

I asked for a soup and ate a portion of his sandwich. He said not to worry about me ordering more food for myself.

“I remember you having an appetite before. I still don’t know where you put all that food, but it still seems that way with you,” said he.

I smiled at his comment, but he knew I just wished my life were completely different from what it was. I was making the effort to change it, but things kept going in other directions. I certainly didn’t envision being where I was then.

“Like I’ve told you before, the day you find a guy that’s good and is worthy of you, all that you’re feeling will go away and everything will change for you,” said he.

I looked at this person, the one who had a miserably failed relationship, and wondered if he was right.

Then it hit me, why is it that us women need to have a significant other to feel complete? I wanted to have a man, but one that’s my equal, one that complements me and can grow together with.

On the other hand, what’s eating this guy that has made him fail so badly in love, and what’s the missing ingredients that I lack to finally get my life together and find the guy he refers to? How many more times do it need to revise my recipe to get it right?

Don’t know. Maybe I should have more soup and sleep on it.

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