The New M.E. Generation











“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.

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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?



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