The New M.E. Generation











I logged in into the social network and searched for his profile and I quickly found it.

He appeared on his photo with a woman, which caught me by surprise. ‘He’s remarried already?’ I thought to myself. ‘When did this happen? Maybe I’m not all up to date with his whereabouts.’

Turns out he is in a relationship and from the look of his face you could tell he is quite happy with her.

I then reconsidered if it was worth sending him a message. I mean, he’s with someone so there’s no chance there of meeting him personally.

Second, will he remember me?

While analyzing what to do, I started getting nervous. Was it because of what happened at the brunch, or perhaps that I was still clinging to the ‘bigger than life’ image that lingered in my memory?

Yes, there is something related to that. I realized that the problem is that I never really got to know him as a person.

We may have gone out a few times, but I barely recall knowing much about his life, his thinking or even less emotional state.

Because of this, a connection or even a friendship was never established because the foundation for it was never there.

So, again, should I contact him? What are the possible outcomes?

He will not respond to my message because he doesn’t remember me, or he does but is not interested in having contact with me.

He will respond because he does remember me, but is not interested in reconnecting. His reply will be to be courteous and will be something to the extent of, ‘nice to hear from you; wish you good luck, etc.’

Or, he will remember me and will respond with a nice message as in, ‘great to hear from you’, with the possibility of continuing the communication.

Whatever, I’ll just give it a try. What I need to say on the message is, ‘hey, I don’t know if you remember me, but we worked on a TV commercial many years ago. I learned about your divorce and that you’re living in this city. I’m glad that you are in a relationship. Don’t know if it would be possible to speak, but I hope we can contact each other somehow.’

I wrote it as brief as possible and edited it many times before I finally hit the ‘send’ button.

It’s done. The anticipation of what happens next is as bad as waiting for next week’s episode of your favorite show.

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I did not get a reply with a picture as I hoped for. Instead, I had a dream. In it, I saw him, his spouse and child. I don’t recall that I was involved in the dynamics of what they were doing.

I was sitting on the side, looking at all this as if I was watching a movie on a small screen. They were so happy and I was smiling, but it wasn’t one of a complete glee.

I was envious of them. I was feeling it again, wanting that, all that and more that makes him happy.

When I woke up I was confused. Why was I sitting on the side and not part of the group? Why did my mind bring this up again? I know he’s settled and content with the life he has. So why did I had to ‘see it’ for myself in a dream to reassure myself?

Now the feelings I thought I was able to start putting to rest sort of came back. I was feeling sad of all lost or perhaps what I never got to have when I was married.

Probably I just needed to ‘picture it’ and learn that, yes, I will fulfill my dream of settling again, having a house and family, and be happy.

I needed to see it through others so I know it is possible. And it will if I set ‘my mind’ and soul into it, because if I visualize, it will happen.

Now that’s something worth dreaming about.

 



I don’t remember if I ever got to see Jeffrey again after his visit to my new place. But we would talk on the phone, on and off, of course.

A few months later, his birthday came up. From our previous conversations, I knew things were still the same as usual. His relationship had gotten worse, his business was struggling, and he couldn’t see the day that his life in general would start change for the better (or he finally had the guts to make this change).

So the only thing I could do was to call him and wish him well. “Jeff, hi, it’s me. I know it’s your birthday so I wanted to wish you good things your way, and that all gets resolved for the best. Love you man.”

A few hours later he returned my call. His voice sounded that he was touched by my message and even teary-eyed. ‘Thank you very much’ was all he could say because his voice chocked.

He was on the verge of crying but he held back. I knew he was deeply sad but didn’t tell me.

I told him again that I appreciated him, thought he was a wonderful person, and that nothing would give me more peace than him finally turning his life around and be happy. All he could answer was ‘I know’ repeatedly.

Yes, I was reaching out to him, but I could feel he was holding back to accept my love for him. I know why he did.

When one has been hurt so much and the pain takes over, you don’t allow yourself for the good to touch you because one feels that, in the long run, it will turn around to become bad and hurt you yet again.

It’s easier to build a wall that shields you because it is all one has known.

We want the good, but we’re scared of it. One thinks that if we shift our emotions to neutral, or not feeling anything, we will be fine.

But we’re not.



After Jay left, our correspondence continued and we were missing each other terribly. Saying good-bye to him at the airport was very hard. We kept hugging each and I tried not to cry. I didn’t look through my rear view window when I drove away because I was just too sad.

The waiting for his arrival felt forever and, now that he was gone, my place felt very empty and lonely as before he came. It was as if he had never made the trip.

About two months later, Jay came back for another week that, of course, included more water skiing, but no travel to the resort.

This time around, he got more of a taste of what my life was about. He got to see Dina again, met Madelyn, and I took him to the different places that I usually go out to.

I even told my friends and family about him. I communicated to others that Jay was someone special that was now part of my life, and all were happy that there was someone else to whom I was special too as well.

Jay even expressed for me to go visit him a few months later at the lake community he was living at. This way, I could really get a sense of his life as a whole now that he got to know mine, and as a way to hopefully continue whatever we had going.

Yes, the relationship conversation was again brought up. The original agreement of continuing to see other people, only as friends, and to keep the communication or honesty open, was to stand.

The second time around went equally as good, but as soon as he left, uncertainty about the future about our relationship quickly sink in once again. This was the last time that, for now, Jay could visit me. And even if I did go to Canada, what was to happen between us after I returned home was in question.

I mean, people were happy for me, but everyone was having the same concern as well. They were glad to learn that I had a love in my life, but what were the chances of a long distance relationship of ever working out?

Forget about the mutual feelings and that we were both different from each other in so many ways. The distance factor was one that, in the end, would do just that, end anything.

I’m digesting all this and can’t come to a conclusion. I figured out that, for now, I’ll go visit him, see how that goes, and take it from there.

And, yet again, I’m throwing all this into the universe, hoping it will give me some direction or answer to my uncertainties.

And it did, but not exactly in what I was shooting for.



One the day before Jay was scheduled to leave, he and I were having dinner at home and I thought discussing our relationship before he left was the right thing to do.

“Jay, do you think we’ll ever have a chance of making, whatever we have together, work?”

“Well, it will definitely be a challenge.”

“Listen, I know I’m still dealing with baggage from my divorce, and if I don’t get my life back on track, I won’t be able to be happy with you or any other person, period.

Also, I don’t want you to think that because we’re ‘together’ that you can’t go out or be friends with other women. I appreciate that you consider me your girlfriend and everyone in your world knows about me. But I also want to be fair and realistic about our situation.”

“I’m grateful for you being open about this and the best thing to do is that we keep being honest with each other and talk about it if the situation occurs.”

We finished dinner and enjoyed the rest of the evening, but talking about other things.

Jay was sad for leaving; I was very much indeed. He said he had another vacation time about a month later and would definitely try to make it back. He also mentioned for me to go visit him some time after his second possible visit, right after the winter had concluded and the weather was bearable for me to withstand.

Sounds like a plan, but so far away, like the time before he came down which seemed would never happen.

I am so happy that this trip happened, but once Jay leaves my life goes back to as before, back to the uncertainty of what lays ahead, and now with an added stress of what the universe is holding for me with this long distance thing.

Can anyone up there send me a clue or something, please?



“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.



et cetera