The New M.E. Generation











{October 12, 2015}   The Ex-Friend 5 – Making a move

My time abroad was short lived. Six months into being there, things changed on the project my then husband was working, so it was best to leave, but this time we were to go to the U.S., to the state he was born and raised.

It was a move I always wanted to do, but the transition wasn’t easy. We didn’t have a job, were living with family and me adjusting wasn’t easy.

I didn’t have anything in common with family and friends; had no credit to show for myself, so getting even a store card wasn’t happening. My job experience was in another country and was even questioned if my studies were done at an accredited school.

We were starting from zero when other couples were already settled down. There was a lot going on that would eventually burst the bubble years later.

Eventually all would level down, including moving into a home and reconnecting with my friend. I have no recollection how I learned he had also moved to the states to work with the same company, or how I got his personal and work phone numbers.

I would communicate with him the same way as before, leaving a message and waiting for him to call back. When we spoke, the topics were always the usual and discussed in the same order: how we were, how was work, family, and any news that was important to share.

But this time I was doing the calls from a home office when my ‘x’ wasn’t around. He had expressed to me that he didn’t liked me speaking with my male friends, even though he knew nothing ever happened between us. I resented my ‘x’ deeply for this, but tried to manage it the best way possible.

As time progressed, my then friend switched jobs about 3 times. I think he lost the job with the airline, went back home, then worked with a cargo company, and came back to the states yet again.

One occasion he was here in town for work and all 3 of us had dinner together. It was great seeing him. My ‘x’ didn’t spoke a word the whole night.

There was a second time my friend was in town, but it was during the first period that my ‘x’ left home. I was so confused and scared, I declined having dinner with him, fearing it would make matters worth with my situation. That’s how overwhelmed I was. This was probably the first time I said ‘no’ to my friend.

I don’t recall how much I told him about what was happening or if he commented anything about it, but I would imagine he made himself available for anything he could do for me.

Maybe he didn’t say much because of how delicate the situation was. One thing’s for sure and that was that he would always be on my side, no matter how bad things turned out for me.

He was my friend, period, in the good and bad, for better or worse, in sickness and health, until another kind of ‘death’ did us part.

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The balcony had two railings: one facing the street and the other the pool area. The dry and wet areas were quite nice, good enough to hold any major gathering.

“So how many parties have you held there?” asked I.

“I’ve had some, but not what you’re thinking,” replied he. “They’ve all happened during the daytime and quietly.”

“No skinny dipping?”

“No! Don’t know what you’re thinking of me, but I know how far I can go. Besides, I’m renting here with someone else and applying to med school. I don’t want any negatives to affect those.”

Good, he’s being smart and nowadays anything bad eventually surfaces, especially on social media. In my time you could pretty much get away with what you did. Whatever one learned about it was thorough ‘word of mouth’. Depending how old the story was when it reached your ears, chances were the real version was totally different from what really happened.

“What about you? How much do you party?” asked he.

I gave him a puzzled look. “No, not really,” answered I and looked away towards the pool area.

“I don’t believe that. You’re a pretty girl and sure there’s other guys interested in you.”

“No, not much activity on that either.” I would look at him briefly, but quickly turned my sight away. Thinking about my current state of affairs regarding my social life was not something I wanted to do.

“Reality is I leave work late. By the time I get home, eat, shower and watch some TV, the day is gone. Then on weekends you have to take care of laundry or food shopping. I always have something to do.

I try to meet with my girlfriends, but they have their own life and responsibilities, so you do the best you can.”

I was listening to myself talk and questioned who was I really trying to convince here. For better or worse, this is my present situation which is as a result of my own decision of how to live it.

“Why are you looking away making weird facial expressions? Did I say anything wrong?” asked he.

“No, it is what it is.”

I looked at my watch and drank whatever was left of my wine. I knew he had studies to do the next day, so I used that as an excuse to go home. It was the best thing for me to do before I got sadder.

We agreed to ‘keep in touch’ as a way to end the night. At that point I didn’t really care if that happened or not.

I avoided the thought so much, I didn’t analyze whether this date had been good or bad.

Now that’s a first.



et cetera