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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After meeting him on the beach and eventually developing a crush on him, I would always look forward to seeing him in school somehow like in between classes switching rooms, at recess or at a distance during daytime school events.

At the beach he was sociable with me, but at school he was very much into his studies as he was focusing entering college the following year. He was a very good student with high grades, interested on medicine, law or engineering for a career. For me he was one of those people who already knew what they wanted out of life and how to get to it.

Me, I was an average student in spite of my efforts to improve my grades and had no clue what I wanted to do with my life, which made me dislike myself very much. I kept wondering why I couldn’t be like him.

Still, I would look for a way to cross paths with him without much success as I felt he was pretty much ignoring me. After a while I took a hard look at myself and decided I wouldn’t pursue him and more into leaving things to chance whenever they happened, if that.

And it did. One night my mom and I were visiting her friend from the beach at her apartment building. The kids from her other guests and me were hanging out in the parking lot when I see him pull up in a Fiat convertible. (I think I first saw it when he drove it to school one day.)

I stared at him from a distance and debated whether to go over to say hello to him or not. After all, chances were he would ignore me and I would regret it. Or, I would let him drive away and regret not having the courage to approach him. I gave it a try.

“Hey, how are you?” said I.

“Hey, nice to see you. What you’re up to?”

“My mom is with some girlfriends upstairs. We’re all hanging out here. What you’re up to?”

“I have to take my mom somewhere.”

“Well, good, nice seeing you. I should be around this coming Sunday.”

As I was walking away, he asked, “What are you doing later?”

(What?? Did I hear right??) “Aah, I’m going home when my mom is done here.”

“OK, I’ll call you later,” said he.

“Sounds good.” (Yeah, like, you’re actually going to do that.)

I went back to hanging out with the other kids and watched as he later drove away.

I wished it was I driving in that car, but I gave myself credit for what I did.

Hey, that was a big step for me back then. Kudos to me!



et cetera