The New M.E. Generation











After this long-extended first date, Bob and I continued seeing each other once a week and speaking on the phone almost every night.

Among the new things I learned about him was that he had a motorcycle and boat. Regarding the first, he is part of this group of cyclists that get together when someone organizes a meetup via email. One Saturday he texted me some photos before they all went for a day-long drive.

Asking me if I have been on one, he was surprised to know that, unfortunately, that has not happened with me.

I told him the ‘closest’ experience was riding a scooter in a Caribbean island with my ex when we were in the initial part of our relationship. I wanted to add humor to my anecdote, so I said that ‘we drove all over the place on one day’, that each time a stop was made in a street light, ‘I would get up from the seat to stretch, as my body began hurting after a while’.

What was really hurting was my butt, but I didn’t wanted to use that language with him just yet. And I know I shouldn’t be including my ‘x’ in conversations, but, at the same time, I didn’t say anything negative about him in this instance because it had been a nice experience for me.

Bob then asked me if I would like riding a motorcycle, to which I said that ‘yes, I would be open to doing that’, but that I would have to do it a couple of times before I gave him a more concrete answer as to whether I like bikes or not.

Regarding boats, I do have experience with that. I explained to him that during ‘my past life’ there was one that we owned, and that I was enjoying it at the beginning. But after a while of waking up every Sunday, rushing to the marina, spending a few hours on it, to then quickly rushing back before the lift stopped working for the day, washing it, giving it maintenance, dealing with the hot weather, etc., it eventually took a toll on me.

It became unenjoyable of working the whole week, then doing chores or errands on Saturdays (basically meaning having only 1 free day of some rest). Even when considering vacations, the boat had to be included somehow, which also took the fun away of planning or doing anything different that was non-water related.

As much as I tried to digest it, reality is that you either love boating or not. It’s either or. There’s no middle ground here. Even if you feel so-so about it, it means that you don’t.

My ‘x’, on the other hand, had been boating since forever. Even more, his grandfather and father have owned boats.

This is so engrained within him, that when I told him one time that I didn’t want to go out on the boat, he took it very personal in that I didn’t wanted to be him, which wasn’t true.

I tried to explain myself to Bob as objectively as possible, with an unfortunate tone in my voice that ‘it was me that wasn’t feeling the boat’, hoping not to point the finger at anything or anyone.

But when I mentioned that my ‘x’ took it personal me not wanting to be in the boat, I accidentally said that “it was always about him, my marriage was all about that: him.”

It was a sad and hurtful moment to realize. It never occurred to my ‘x’ to ask me about my feelings that day about the boat or anything else that had to do with me. As long as I did everything he expected of me, all was ‘fine’. He never cared to go below the surface and see what was causing the whirlwind within me.

Bob then wondered how I felt about boating in general, to which I said that ‘I haven’t done it for so long, it feels as if I’ve never experienced it before; that I would also need to do it a couple of times to define what my feelings are about it in the present’.

I may have sounded negative, but I wasn’t going to jump all over with excitement about joining him on the boat if that was not the case. I know that it’s worse to lie to others because it will bite you back later on and can be turned against you. I prefer to be straightforward in the beginning so if the other person doesn’t like it, then better now than later to part ways.

In spite all that I said, Bob still invited me to join him on his boat on a Saturday. Nice. At least he seems to understand where I’m coming from. I think.

I did mean what I said that I would be willing to give it a try. Just because I have bad memories doesn’t mean I can’t create good ones now. Who knows, I might shift all the way to liking it completely.

You may ask if I have any emotions still linked to the first boat mentioned (and that guy). I will tell you this: after all these years being single, I now feel a huge relief that I don’t have to deal with anything related to both any more.

I have sailed forward the best of my ability and have discovered more than some new worlds.

I have found the calm after the storm.

 

 

 

 

 

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Another 2 days went by before I got another reply, this time around 4am and still on a work week.

I wondered again if he was getting up or going to bed and what his whereabouts were. In other words, were you at home or, most probably, somebody else’s place?

Back in my days when I was doing my undergrad and living on campus, if you returned very late to your room, it had to be that you were either at the library (that was the main excuse everyone used) studying or writing a paper, or at the computer center.

Yes, I said the computer center. That’s where people went to type their papers before personal ones became a normal thing to have. And the place was open (I believe) until midnight or beyond.

If those 2 locations weren’t it, then it meant you were probably having some sort of relationship with someone else and managed to spend the night with that person. You either convinced the other roommate to go sleep somewhere else, or that other person slept in your bed with the roommate there as well.

Doing the second was no easy task, as having roommates was difficult per se and meant losing more of the little space and privacy you already had.

Then there was the situation if anyone called you. It was one phone paid by many and the calls were usually from parents, family, or significant others living at school or not.

The calls would mostly occur after 10pm as they knew all classes were done for the day, you already had dinner, etc.

But, that was not always the case. If you took the call, you had the misfortune of telling the caller that your roommate wasn’t there and that you didn’t know where she was, either that was true or not.

It was an uncomfortable situation because you always sounded as you were lying and hiding something.

Then there was the task of having to call them back and explain yourself. After saying ‘you were studying’, things would quiet down until the same scenario happened again.

Yes, it was a time that keeping track of others was no easy task, but is it that different now? Not really, except that all devices are personal and mobile, and you have total control in how you manage them.

In a way it’s harder as no one else knows what you’re doing, that is, if you keep it quiet to yourself.

So what am I thinking right now? That he probably had some chemistry with a girl in his biology class and decided to take it beyond the books. After all, he’s young, good looking and has goals for the future. What girl wouldn’t like that?

This got me thinking; this guy got my attention not necessarily for his merits, but because it’s making me remember my time in college.

That was a special time, as I finally got a chance to be on my own and started to discover who I really was, just like when I became single again.

The negative part is the age difference, which is making me feel old, and that feeling is not good at all.

I may have reversed the effects of what I’ve gone through, but there’s no ‘time’ capsule for the other half of the equation.

You have to swallow it no matter what.



et cetera