The New M.E. Generation











I opened my closet door and asked myself what I was so nervous about. I’m at home in my own domain, meaning I should take hold of what happens this night.

I decided to go for a simple dress and be comfortable. Also something not too dressy in case I needed to assist with the cooking.

This guy arrived on time with bags of food and a recipe he downloaded. As in true college fashion, he came with jeans and a shirt.

Before he got down to business, I gave him a quick tour of my place. When he saw my living room TV, he made a comment of how small it was for him and that he would never be able to live with it.

I felt like replying, ‘likewise with your big ass TV’. I feel mine is a reflection of my simplicity and he of a big ego or perhaps insecurities he needs to divert off from others.

When he saw the one in my room, which was inherited from my past life and is a cross between the traditional models with a flat screen before the full transition occurred, he said, ‘whoa, this is a really old TV!’.

Hmm, the one who’s feeling old now is me.

“No, it’s not that old. Beside, I like it. I can play movies and the colors are still good,” said I.

Why am I explaining my TV situation to him? And why is it such a big deal? It’s a household item that once it breaks down, I can get a new one anywhere for a great price.

I admit it’s my primary source of entertainment and connection to the outside world, but I don’t treat it as my life depended on it.

I am trying not to get upset by his remarks, but it’s starting to, especially because I’m at my own house, so I shifted my attention to the cooking.

He was to prepare breaded chicken with pasta. He wanted to follow the recipe exactly and from what I could read, it seemed pretty healthy.

I let him take over the kitchen to do his thing, all I did was stand close by and provide him with what he needed.

I stood at the kitchen doorway and tried my best not to be anxious about someone new invading my space and in control of something as simple as making dinner.

But it was inevitable for me to be micro-managing everything, like washing all items used so they wouldn’t pile up in the sink, putting things away, and cleaning the counter.

I was somewhat tired when all was prepared and we sat down at the table to eat.

It has been quite some years sitting face to face at a table having dinner at home. I then remembered how I much I enjoyed doing that in college. It’s a memory that was almost forgotten.

It was a feeling like watching an old episode of a show that you used to love. Question is: will this night and situation ‘get cancelled’ after it’s over or will it be worthy of a ‘re-run’?

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“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.



The next day at work on a Friday I started thinking about how the situation had unfolded the day before.

I know I did the right thing by turning him down, but I also realized this was probably the last chance of ever seeing him again face to face.

Reality is, the only way to ever finalize the past and present was to confront him and all my emotions.

So, if getting to where he will be is not an option, how about telling him to make a first stop on my end, and then later he continues to his final destination?

‘Hey, I was thinking, how about if you came over first, maybe have some dinner, and then you go?’ text I.

It didn’t take long for him to reply. ‘I thought I needed to resolve my issues with my girlfriend,’ replied he.

‘I know, but this will probably be the last chance we have of seeing each other,’ said I.

‘Yeah, I could do that,’ said he. ‘What time do you get out of work?’

‘No later than 6:30 p.m. What time would you get here?’

‘Around 8:30-9 p.m. Text me your address so I can set it on my GPS.’

It was only about 12 p.m., so it meant he was to leave around 4 p.m. if he wanted to avoid Friday’s traffic jam, especially coming into my city.

I asked him to text me once he was on the road and subsequent locations as his trip advanced.

I kept on working as usual until around 4 p.m. when the local weather decided to work against me when it delivered massive amounts of rain.

It got so dark it looked like it was late at night. Damn, now this means traffic is really going to get bad for me and (hopefully not) for him.

I hurried to finish my work on time and rushed out the door at my usual leave time. The rain had stopped and everyone driving were doing the ‘are we there yet?’.

My plan was to get home, shower and wear something appropriate for the occasion or, better yet, something that really represented who I was and not what he probably still has stuck on his mind about me.

So, what’s is it going to be? How about high school sweetheart turned prom queen diva? Yeah, it’s personal and I’ve got the clothes and shoes to make it happen.



I couldn’t get to sleep that night. All that had to do with he and I kept going around my mind over and over with no resolution.

When I finally fell asleep, I had a dream. In it, he and I were standing face to face. I looked at him straight to his eyes and repeatedly asked him, ‘Why did you leave me? Why?’ while trying to push him away.

He didn’t answer me. He held my hands and I lowered my head with tears coming out of my eyes. He then hugged me and I placed my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I felt an immense sense of peace.

I then woke up and stared at the ceiling in the dark, and it all came back to me. We never concluded what we had the last time we saw each other. We simply turned around and walked away from each other and our feelings. We let go of everything that joined us, but not of what we felt towards each other.

So what happens next? Nothing. What we shared belongs to that time and there’s nothing else for me to do other than learn from it and finally close that chapter of my life.

Maybe we needed to part ways and find each other again so we could get it right the second time around. And I think we finally did that, even in the distance. It is now up to us to decide if the connection remains or we part ways again.

Whatever the outcome, he will always remain in my thoughts and can only wish the best for him.

So I guess it will be good-bye, for now.



Nope, I did not see this one coming, and it was a first for me when Alex told me the following over the phone. “I would like you to spend the night with me.”

Holy! What? Say again? Did I get that right? My internal ‘mute’ button quickly activated. My mouth was open and my eyes were circling around while my mind analyzed what I just heard.

“Aah…(pause) Do we have to have sex?” is all I could ask.

“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to.”

(What are you saying? I’m still trying to decipher the first part.) “OK?…”said I.

“Is that a yes?”

“OK as in I guess I understand what you are asking of me? You have caught me off guard again and I’m speechless.”

“I know I’ve really put you in a difficult spot. My intentions are true for you and will never hurt you. Think about it and whatever you decide I will be fine with it,” concluded he.

We agreed that I was going to do that and meet again to discuss. Why meet? We’ve been doing most of our conversations online or by phone and it was understood this type of matters needed to be addressed the old fashioned way: face to face.

I sat back on my sofa, the place I’ve done a lot of thinking and decision making in the past. Many of them have involved a lot of pain and crying, and now was one of those moments.

Alex’s proposition was a very serious one to me. He wanted a committed relationship and me, not yet. He obviously was not into this for just the fun of it and neither was I.

But he also said that ‘nothing would happen unless I wanted it to.’ OK? So, if I decide to get in bed with him just to sleep (and don’t want to have sex!), will he leave me alone the rest of the night?

Get real Emma! He’s a guy! He’ll say anything to get you to his bed and then some! Do you honestly think he won’t do anything when he has a girl next to him??

Hmm, I wonder that too. I mean, he hasn’t tried to kiss me or expressed any type of emotions physically like hugging or holding hands. So, there’s a possibility he might actually be telling the truth.

Now I’m really curious to find out. Maybe instead of being afraid about this, I should go for the non-sex approach and see what happens.

Talking about putting this guy to the test.



I’m walked inside the station through the garage and the first thing I come face to face with is the fire truck. I think this is the first time I’ve ever been this close to one and its presence of respect and powerfulness was quite impressive.

The station was actually housed in exactly that, a house, meaning there’s no sliding pole. (Darn it!) It had the usual layout of a residence with a kitchen, rooms, living room, etc.

After the quick tour is over (five minutes or less), Al offers me a drink and I sat with him and other firefighters in the dinning table. He then asked one of them to try to contact Brian. The firefighter makes the call and leaves a message for him.

While I had my drink and waited for Brian possibly calling back, I talked to Al about being divorced, how I met Brian and not getting his number, and how embarrassed I felt doing what I had done. Oddly enough, he sat there and listened to everything I had to say.

The firefighter who tried to contact Brian receives a call on his mobile. I kept talking to Al, trying not to show my obvious anxiety waiting to learn if it was finally him.

“What’s up bro’?” said the firefighter. “Listen, there’s somebody here looking for you. (Pause). Emma. (Another pause) Emma! The one you met at the party. Want to talk to her?” He hands me over his mobile.

My mind went blank; I didn’t know what to say. “How are you?” I asked. (“Good and you?” Brian asked me.) “Hmm, nothing, hmmm,” is all could say. I was so nervous I honestly don’t remember what else I told him over the phone.

I do remember the following. “Do you want to meet at the coffee shop on 57th in about 20 minutes?” Brian asked.
“Yeah, I can do that. See you in 20 then,” I concluded.

The place is not that far away from the station, so I decided to stay there briefly before finally exiting. I’m still nursing my drink and talking to Al. I’ve been hoping for this moment and now I couldn’t bring myself to seeing him again.

The time came for me to leave and I thanked Al and the rest of the firefighters for their hospitality.

Al walked me to my car, and just before I drove away, he looked at me and, with a caring voice, simply said, “you’re a nice girl and he’s a great guy. I hope things work out for the best.”



et cetera