The New M.E. Generation











Later on that day, I did get to rest a little by taking a nap. While my thoughts wandered into an unknown place in my mind, I started remembering certain moments from the past I had somewhat forgotten. Tears came down as I thought about them and tried to push them away.

I debated yet again if I should share them with him. A part of me felt I would look desperate if I did, while the other reminded me that, as he recently told me, “it doesn’t change anything.”

Me: “I don’t know why I’m remembering this, but there was a time when I was walking to school. You came down the street in your 2-door Fiat with the top off as always. You offered me a ride for the remainder of the trip. Was so nervous I didn’t say a word.” (And that I sat properly with my hands resting on my lap. Didn’t want the ride to end so quickly, but was more concerned about what other people would think when they saw us.)

“There was another occasion in the same car when you grabbed my hand and placed it in the shift stick. I took my hand away after some time. You then grabbed it again and placed it back. This time you held it with your hand so it would stay” (which means we were holding hands while taking a drive).

“I’m not sure if this last was the same day when you looked at me closely, made a hand gesture of moving your index finger towards you and saying ‘come here’ to me. I did with a face off ‘what?’ and then you gave me a big kiss.

The truth is that after all these years that I’ve had my own 2-door vehicle, have never been able to keep my hand off entirely when shifting gears and thinking of you when driving.

Who would have said that I would see you again. And that I would forget about you. And now you appeared again. And knowing that no matter what I feel, like you said correctly, nothing will change. Such is life.”

He made no comments to any of this. And I wasn’t expecting any, because that’s how he is. He’s one of those people that react to something by not reacting at all.

Hate to admit that the last day I saw him caused my inner-self to become unbalanced. And that’s because he’s always kept a distance much like a wall between us.

When at the apartment, when he kneeled in front of me and looked straight into my eyes, and I said that I was at peace with us (or that I’m over you), that wall came down upon him placing his hands on my knee.

He realized he was about to lose me and decided to enter my world for the first time. But that didn’t last long. When he said ‘I don’t know what to do with you’, he essentially regressed to his old self of distancing and leaving things in a limbo.

He had the chance of changing everything and didn’t take it. He made the choice of staying with the blonde.

As the weeks progressed, I kept some communication with him. I remembered out of the blue that his birth date was basically mine in reverse with a month difference.

The last time I contacted him was for the long summer weekend. Then the hurricane warnings and my birthday occurred. Nothing happened from his part considering we live on the same state.

As the storm battled my city and I survived many days without power, I took the time to allow the winds of change to set in and find my balance once more. And just like everything that got washed away, so did him and everything he represents.

He might have said things don’t change, but I did. With myself. And him. I took him out of my life with the same strength I did before. It’s the calm after the storm. It surely is.

Update: A week after the hurricane hit, on a Saturday, around 7:30 pm, I get the following text.

Him: “Hope you weathered the storm ok. Just got power and have been working on the property all day.”

I replied with a first text of summarizing that I was unable to celebrate my birthday because it was the day before the storm reached my area; that didn’t stay in my apartment during the event; that neither my home or car suffered damages; that my employer reopened the office mid-week, and I was presently getting up-to-date.

The second one read: “I’m glad you’re fine and hope your things get back to normal soon.”

Him: “Thanks. You too.”

So there it is. No surprise here, as usual.

He didn’t reach out when Maria hit, asking me how my mom was in the island, considering that because of me going to the beach with her, is how I met him, and it’s the place we both grew up and went to school together.

I know he’s not obliged to do anything. But it’s not right either. Simply said: he doesn’t care. And that’s the last memory I’ll have of him before I sign off from him for good.

“Although there’s pain in my chest, I still wish you the best, with a ‘forget you’.” – Cee Lo Green – Forget You

 

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After what my girlfriend said the night of the dinner, I sort of went back to being quiet and not saying much.

The texting during the commutes continued, but I kept them to the usual ‘good morning’, to asking how the day was going at the office. Because I was leaving earlier to work, I started missing seeing his car, which took away the fun of crossing paths.

At least the idea of meeting in the future prevailed, but it felt like it was taking forever. This guy always had some excuse, all seemingly legit, for not making it happen, like work-related events, having a good friend in town, and taking his sports car (and testing others) on a speedway.

He even said once that he left his phone at the office. That was probably a lie, but I wasn’t in the position of questioning him on that. (Did I mention he has his own business, a travel incentives company?…)

I even suggested taking the next step of talking on the phone (“I’m not really a person that does that”, said he.) What’s this? Another Fish clone? (see The Swipe). This gave me a bad chill on my spine.

I was getting tired of ‘no phone’ conversations, but, again, wasn’t going to insist on anything. At least the texting provided a clarification about his age when he mentioned he was at the doctor taking care of the pre-op before having a colonoscopy.

Me: “First time? So I guess you’re 50?”

Him: “I’m probably a LOT older than you. Only 50. I must look a lot older.”

Me: “How old you think I am?”

Him: “I’ll say mid to late 30’s.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s it” (not!).

Him: “Age is not a number. You’re as old as you feel.” (This is such a delusional statement! Not even you believes that.) “So I guess I’m too old for you lol.” (…and that he uses ‘lol’ in every texting?)

Me: “Nope.”

Him: “Yay!”

Hmmm, wonder how he would feel about me if he learned I’m very close to his age. Would he still be interested in me?

When he finally ‘popped the question’ (lunch, that is), I let him choose the time and place. He mentioned to meet at noon on a Saturday at a nice place I’ve been once before. I told him to please reconfirm with me the following morning.

Because I didn’t hear from him, I sent him a text message; got a reply like an hour before the due time, that his 80-something mother wasn’t feeling right, was taking her to the hospital, and was sorry about it. That maybe tomorrow could be.

This didn’t sit well with me. I know it’s his mom, he apologized, and asked for a rain check. But anything that has to do with hospitals takes time, so bailing out at the last minute always makes you look bad. It felt like he was getting ‘cold feet’ about it all, thus using the situation as a means to hide.

All I could do was tell him that ‘hope all goes well’ (he: “thanks for your understanding”) and make the best out of the day. I followed up with him early evening (“Still at hospital. Waiting for test results and else. Thanks for asking.”)

Next day, don’t remember who initiated the texting, but he cancelled again, citing that he still had to deal with his mom, plus had to go see his dad to help him with something. Another “so sorry, hope you understand”. All I did was express the same as the day before. Didn’t communicate with him the rest of the day.

As the weekend winded down, I felt like those days when I’m starting to wonder if this guy will turn out to be another repeat story.

I’ve been disappointed so many times, any minor things start ringing bells in my head. Even if you’re told the truth, it still feels suspicious.

Well, another new week, another chance that things might come my way (or not).

Monday morning memo to myself: “If a guy wants to be with you, he will make it happen no matter what” (- He’s Not That Into You). Copy that.

 

 

 

 



{January 23, 2017}   The Swipe 18 – Having E.D.

I kept seeing Bob after the boating (and bad comment) day. Surprisingly, I managed to put the incident aside, which is a first for me.

Fact is, Bob was a contradiction within himself. Up until then he had been respectful and well-mannered, always asking me how I would feel about doing anything, including holding my hand one night when we went out to eat. And then the incident happened.

It was like a dual personality in which the second gets quickly triggered by something, to then going back to your original one in an instance.

Regarding holding hands, it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing for me either. It was another thing I hadn’t done in quite some time, but decided to do it to find out how it now felt.

Honestly, it was a mid-point reaction for me; it didn’t felt as great as I hoped for, nor something I wouldn’t do again with him.

There was an obvious six degrees of separation within me towards Bob when we took a stroll together one night. I even sat across from him at a restaurant table, not side by side. I was close to him, but not that close in reality.

Heck, maybe my mind still had his awful comment on high alert, making me pull away as a subconscious self-defense mechanism.

All the while neither Bob and I had commented to anyone that we were dating, not even the couple friend of mine.

Eventually Bob showed the husband the selfie of our first night out. Bob said the guy reacted with surprise that there was a female in the picture. Bob then told him to look closer at the photo and when realizing who it was, he then reacted with more surprise.

But what was surprising to me was that I was sure my GF would call me immediately upon learning about it, which didn’t happen. There was no mention of it, even on one time she and I went to dinner by ourselves.

Bob even said that he had suggested to my GF’s husband that we should all go out to eat together, to which he agreed, but a tentative date was not set.

From this point forward, this is how I remember the next sequence of events. I met with Bob for dinner on a Thursday because he had plans the following evening to meet with his children.

It had been a long work week for me and after getting a slight buzz from a very cold beer, I blurt out to him, “do you have any hair left on your head?” (Hey, he had the nerve of saying something out of line and now it’s my turn, don’t you think?)

He gave me a puzzled look and responded that he still had some, but that he preferred to just shave it off every day.

I kept staring at him and felt like asking, “why?? don’t you miss having a full set?” Oops, talking about having a bad hair day.

Saturday came and I was watching the Olympics, as a female athlete from home was to compete for the Gold medal, the first one for us.

I spoke with Bob sometime before it and his tone of voice sounded very disconnected. At no point did he invited me to his home or showed any enthusiasm when I told him about the match. It was like his alter ego had showed up again.

The game happened; we won. I cheered and cried like a baby, even took a video of the medal ceremony. I called Bob shortly after.

“Did you see it??? We won!!! OMG, this is so awesome…” I kept on and on. He listened to me, but was totally emotionless. There was never an instance of him saying something like “congrats” or “great” that would equal the immense joy of the moment. He didn’t give a shit about it.

He had disappointed me a second time, but I let it pass again because of how great I was feeling.

I believe I called him the next day just to say hello. I even asked him if he wanted some company, to which he replied, “I’m doing laundry”.

Damn dude, you probably wash your clothes in cold water because I just felt getting soaked with that right now. Do you know what a ‘fabric softener’ is by any chance?

I didn’t say anything again, but it was the third time that he was a dick.

I was so upset I even consulted with my bestie (please see The Ex-Friend story) to get her opinion.

“Guys nowadays have no fucking idea of what they want,” said she. “That being said, how can they have a relationship with anyone? I know this situation sucks, but like I have told you before, better now than later. I think this guy’s problem is that he has E.D.”

“Make it more emotional dysfunction,” replied I. “It happens all the time. It all starts well and one day to the next they disappear without warning. I know the distance is a big issue for me and most probably would have become a decisive factor in the long run, but if you don’t want to keep going forward, just say it and we’ll part ways.”

“That’s why they’re dysfunctional. They’re using the wrong head to do anything,” continued she.

Whatever the reason, I wrapped around my own head the thought that this had come to an end. Even if this was bound to fail, it’s still upsetting that it’s a repeated pattern with the guys that have become present in my life.

I’m being flexible, open, letting things go with the flow, not take things so personal as my GF’s have told me, but there’s still these ‘spots’ with my connections that won’t go away even with the best bleach.

So what I’m supposed to do now? Switch detergents? Could be, but one thing I will do for sure is this: Read the label before using.

 

 

 

 



As I continue on my online quest to meet a guy, I did the swipe thing again shortly before my trip with Dina.

This time I connected with one that caught my attention, not because of his looks, but because he worked in the same company as the husband of a girlfriend of mine.

This meant that, one, he should be as good as a person as my GF’s man and, two, I can get any information I want to know about him through my friends, hopefully eliminating all the mysteries surrounding someone you don’t know.

This person, which I will refer to as Bob, looked respectable from his photos. He’s about 5 years older than me and although he has no hair (as in bald, which I never done before of meeting someone like that), I reminded myself to keep my options open, like my bestie always says.

Because I had his first name and that of his employer, I did a search, and found his profiles. The work one had no photo of him, plus the information didn’t seem current, and his social one was very plain. It basically had no content other than the photos he posted of himself in the app.

This is what happens with social media. Either people post too much, or are so closed to the world that you wonder if they’re hiding something. Again, I will try not to jump ahead of myself.

At the same time, if you’re not one who will dedicate time in engaging with your profiles (either personal or professional), then why bother having one?

I think Bob gave me his email before my trip, but did let him know that I was traveling and would touch base with him upon my return, which I did.

He gave me his number and I made the first call on a weekday sometime after work. He picked the call about in the third ring and his voice sounded as one that matched his physical.

We were on the phone for at least an hour and we shared small talk about my trip, work, family, etc., without going to further details, but he seemed to enjoy and interested in what I had to say.

If we did get into a more serious topic, like divorce, it was discussed mildly as in ‘how many years ago it happened’ or other basics.

One thing I didn’t ask him, which probably I should have, was if he was seeing anyone else. He didn’t ask me either and, from what I heard from him, he didn’t sound like he was.

The one detail that was really disappointing was that he lives about an hour or so away from me, which is not what the app showed. I guess the software displays the location of the person of where they are at the moment when one is using the app.

My bad luck with that ‘there’s always something with the guys’ I meet happened yet again. Is this the universe giving me a heads up early on that it won’t happen with this one either? If so, why then did he had to come into my life?

After the first conversation, I called him a couple of more times until I felt that, if he was interested in continuing talking, he should be the one now making the call.

He did a few days later and said on the phone something like, ‘you have been the one calling me, so I thought it was my turn to do so now’. Ok, he seems to be interested.

We eventually spoke a few more times (I believe taking turns) and I think I was the one to ask him if we should meet, to which he accepted.

Since his work is located at a reasonable distance from where I live, I recommended meeting at a bar at a mall near my home on a Friday after work. Although I’ve never been there, the location was one of those with an open design concept that seemed the best one for meeting someone for the first time.

I will admit I was nervous, so much so that I couldn’t decide what to wear. I searched among my clothes some days before looking for something that would click. I put a few ideas aside, but ended up wearing something I decided upon last minute.

Not only did I wanted to make a good impression, I wanted something that I felt represented my personality at that moment. Call me a diva or fashion exaggerated, but my vision was realized.

I remember driving to the mall and walking with these high heels I haven’t worn for a while, so I was trying to establish a flow in the walk as graceful as I could from the parking to the bar, which was all the way to the end of the restaurants wing.

I kept my sunglasses on (trying to pull an Audrey Hepburn) and as I was about to make my entrance to the establishment, I saw how much nicer it was from the internet photos.

And then I see Bob sitting right across the entrance, staring at everyone going in, waiting for me.

What was my reaction when I first saw him? Quite frankly, I don’t remember.

I do remember managing to walk with those heels without a hitch and my dual-tone sunglasses.

Yep, as fashionistas say where I come from: “La moda aunque me joda” (Fashion or bust).

So what happens next? The greeting and sitting down. And everything else, hopefully.

And I’ll need a drink for all that. Cheers!



“When are you coming back?” asked the woman.

“I don’t know. This is my first time in Cuba,” replied I.

“Do you like it?”, asked she.

“For being the first one, it has been a unique experience, very interesting,” replied I.

“Cuba is not what it used to be,” said she.

“That I knew,” said I.

“This is, well, a system different from that of the past,” continued she. “Those who didn’t live it can’t adapt to it. If it is someone like you, you don’t know what it used to be. Cuba was a golden cup, a jewel. Those who know it, like me, who were born and raised here, and are now facing old age, have seen the changes.

When the afternoon ends, everyone goes home, and there’s this huge sadness. The youth by instinct is always searching for something; they go out walking, dancing, make noise. But it’s not like before; at 10pm, the ‘it’ people would go out to enjoy the nightlife. The cabarets would open, the tycoons would appear; they came from abroad,” said she.

She looked away, probably reminiscing a long time past. She even placed her index finger to her mouth as a sign of silence. This I have heard before; it signifies that ‘I shouldn’t be saying much further about this topic, as I might get into trouble.’

All I could do is look at her, smile sadly, and make a gesture of ‘I understand.’ But deep inside of me it was heartbreaking.

Sitting in that apartment was like a place almost frozen in time. This must have been a gorgeous home in its glory days, but unfortunately is not that any more.

After my meeting with the woman, I took a walk around the area and sat down in a bench in a shaded area. I looked at the people walking by, the surroundings, buildings.

It was my fourth day on this island and still feeling surreal that I was there. It was one of being on a strange place, mixed with that you’ve been here before. Maybe the similarities to my home country made me feel that way. Maybe I’ve been here in another life.

And then I asked myself, what would have happened if my marriage had been lived in this place, since my ‘x’ and family are from here?

Honestly, I think it would have been more miserable. Being in someone else’s turf would have made my existence even worse. The rules of engagement, the expectations; everything would have been at a much higher level to attain, probably unachievable.

Some of my ‘x’ in-laws would have taken advantage that I was on my own, with no friends and family to really upon, to tear me apart, just like they did.

And my x’s infidelities would have been the talk of the town. I would have felt helpless, numb, and not knowing what to do, other than suck it up and hope that it would all go away without much damage.

All the issues and situations that lead to the divorce would have been the same, but in a different scale. It would have been a more painful and difficult experience.

Would have I stayed when I became single? Probably I would have debated it like I did before. Would have taken my time, traveled, did things the way I wanted, like discovering a new world within the only one that I knew.

I would have opted to not running away from my reality, but instead proving to myself that I had the capacity to bounce back and overcome anything that I faced. That it was time to live life the way it should be, on my own terms. Just like I did.

Just like sitting on this bench and making this trip. I was told ‘no’ so many times by my ‘x’ (and now ex-friend) that I couldn’t do certain things, to which it only fueled my desire to prove them wrong. They’re not here to see it, but they will know it about one day. It will be a message of ‘how did she do that?’ They will see a side of me they didn’t care to see.

Who knows, maybe I would have made the decision of staying at that bench. After you become single again, you have to regain your place within yourself and the earth, and I believe I have accomplished that.

Maybe one of the reasons for making this trip (without me realizing it until now), was that I needed this question to be answered.

Perhaps it was meant for me to have come to this island because there’s still some sides of me that I yet have to recover, or uncover, and this place will be the vehicle for that.

I will definitely be back. The universe is telling me that I have to.

Maybe I was indeed here in another existence. Maybe I need to make more history of my own in this lifetime. And it’s looking pretty good right from where I’m sitting now.



Fast forward a couple of years later and this time my ‘x’ left me and filed for divorce. It was a very difficult time. My father had passed suddenly early that year; my boss had made my work miserable from day one, and with my life falling apart because of these two events, he took advantage of doing everything in his power to make my performance suffer even more.

Within a 6-8 month period, the divorce was finalized, lost my job, and I moved out of my home and all that my life represented to that point.

Eventually I moved into an apartment; it was the first time ever I’ve been on my own and taking responsibility for everything.

I don’t know where my friend was in all this. My first memory into single life was he calling me to the apartment letting me know he had accepted a job in the Northeast and was already there.

He also called to introduce me to ‘his family’: a woman and son who would be living with him. Even more, he put her on the phone so we would meet.

I was so overwhelmed I didn’t question him on any details of how it all came to happen. I don’t even know (or remember) what he said about me, or our friendship, to this woman.

When she spoke to me she sounded OK, nothing then that impressed me or raised a red flag.

I was probably more concerned about losing our friendship than anything else, especially now, plus I trusted him he would do the right thing, or so I thought.

Once we both settled down, the calls went back to the usual routine. But now we would discuss our emotions more now that my relationship ended and he was in one that he referred to as ‘a marriage without papers’.

We kept supporting each other and would tell each ‘we would be fine’. But such a statement was easier said than done.

We were now more than 10 years older, gone through too many rough moments and in a stage in our lives that anything we set out to do could go either way.

Gone were the years that you felt you could overcome anything that was thrown at you, that there was a way to make things better, that by putting your best effort, you would get what you hoped for.

It was a time of ‘let’s see what happens’ and of knowing that all that had significance to you could be lost in an instance; leaving you with scars that not even the best medicine could heal.



I somehow managed to finally fall asleep. The weather was cooler than normal, so it was nice to be in bed resting.

I didn’t immediately get out of bed upon waking up. I knew well what had evolved the previous night: he wanted to drive all the way over here and show up (not exactly unannounced); better yet, surprise me on Valentine’s weekend.

You’re probably thinking why I didn’t go for it when I keep saying that I should get exposed to these type of situations.

As stupid as it may seem, I wasn’t up for it last night. Blame it on my comfy bed, me being tired, or perhaps that I had washed my hair and didn’t want to get it messed up.

It just gets to the point that if you know nothing else will evolve here, why put your time and emotions into it?

I know I could just do it for the fun of it and later remember the incident as one that made this particular weekend unique.

But as weird as this may sound, perhaps the real reason is that I unconsciously felt this would be a grown-up version of what happened during high school.

The memories are limited, but between what I’ve learned from his stories and the little I remember, the scenario is just the same: he’s into me, but not enough or interested to taking it further.

That I could have had a jolly, good time (and maybe more) is true. But at this point in my life, I’ve learned to do that with my girlfriends, but most importantly, on my own, without the need of having a guy next to me.

And then, at exactly 10:10am, the beach guy resurfaced.

‘Good morning. You know I would have driven there for the day,’ text he.

‘But you’re with your daughter.’

‘She’s 17 and her 18-year-old brother is here. They will be fine overnight or for the day. I could have even left late last night, but you were so stubborn about your address. I guess you didn’t get the hint.’

‘I fell asleep. And thought you couldn’t leave your kids home alone.’

‘The little one is out of state and the two I have with me are old enough to be alone.

‘You can still come here. I have off tomorrow.’

‘I have to work tomorrow and I’m not driving there just to be with you for a couple of hours.’

See what I mean? It felt just like the good old days. He would spend a few hours with me at the beach and off he went. The day would have evolved the same, minus the location.

I was sort of still questioning myself about my indifference, but not any more. You realize what I did? I rejected him!!

Wow! And maybe for the first time, the sand blew up to him and hit him hard on the face. Nice!

This is definitely one memory I’m surely not forgetting.



“I promise I won’t bite,” said he while I kept considering his offer and sporting a poker face. Hell, this is not the first time I’ve heard this and won’t be the last.

I was torn as to what to do. I thought that if I declined, I would get upset later for not giving myself the opportunity of exposing myself to situations even though I’ve had them before.

Then, if I do decide to give it the go ahead and the results are bad, question is, which of the two will I regret the most? Even if I decide to go, that doesn’t guarantee that the outcome will be good.

“Fine, wine it is,” replied I.

I followed him in my car and his apartment wasn’t that far. I parked outside the building as instructed. It was one of those locations in the area I remember seeing going up every time I drove to work.

My insecurities sort of started to get activated. It’s not bad where I currently live, but it is an older structure and not as fancy as this one.

The apartment itself was not that big, but nice. It had 2 rooms, kitchen, living area, and balcony. He had a male roommate and the place was definitely a college/bachelor pad. At least it was a place that was mainly clean and organized, good enough to feel confident of safely drinking some wine from a glass he had.

I sat down on the sofa, which had in front a massive TV. It was a little bit intimidating looking at it. Not even growing up at home was there ever one this size and forget about those in college; the rooms could only accommodate so much. People had to basically sit very close to be able to view the screen.

Even if I presently had the money to buy one, I wouldn’t. I don’t see the value of owning something like this and prefer investing the money in something else that has more of a long-term value.

It also made me think, how does this guy (or maybe his roommate) get the money to buy it? I started feeling out of place and thinking this guy and I were really in 2 different worlds that were becoming more distant by the minute.

What the heck was I expecting? Sorry, I’m not in college any more and I’m not winning this battle of the sexes any time soon.

“Hey, you want to sit in the balcony?” asked he.

Good idea, perhaps a neutral zone is the next best move.



“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.



et cetera