The New M.E. Generation











The rest of my Spring Break went great. He took me everywhere, even to places that you had to drive some. But it was worth it.

Like my father would say to me many years later, ‘you never know what places you will have a chance to go to that you might not return, so take it as an adventure when you do.’ I loved all cities I visited and put it in my bucket list to return one day.

I did visit my friend one more time before he completed his studies. He really dedicated his efforts in his career; he was doing 1-2 summer sessions, and eventually some graduate courses.

I remember he telling me how some classes was done ‘in the field’ or outside the classroom with the airplanes. The summer heat and rain were memorable, so all students and classes had to start on time. By no later than 11am the weather would get very bad and everyone had to leave the area.

The second time I visited and he picked me up at the airport was as great as the first time, except I was older and almost out of school, meaning my uncertainties about the future were already looming over me.

“So, what do you want to do?” asked he when I got into the car.

“I want to buy a bathing suit. Take me to a good mall,” replied I.

My friend got surprised. He probably thought I wanted to have a drink or something. He took me to a great one and I walked in to the first bathing suit store I saw.

I was determined to buy a bikini, don’t know why because my weight wasn’t exactly how I wanted it to be. I don’t think I was that overweight, but as a woman it was an issue that always lingered.

In the store I found one with red, black and white colors. I walked outside the dressing room to show him and get his opinion. “What do you think?” asked I in a serious tone like, ‘tell me the truth.’

My friend’s eyes and mouth opened wide. I couldn’t decipher if it was good or bad. “Aaaah… I think it looks good on you…,” said he in a tone that made me believe he didn’t want me to feel bad about my body.

“Be honest with me. We’ve always been that to each other, even if we don’t want to hear it.”

“Truth is, I’ve never seen you before in a bathing suit.”

What? How is it possible to have been living in a Caribbean island and friends since our early teens, and never spent time under the sun?

“We’ve never been together at the beach?? Not even at the school’s Junior/Senior picnic?’ asked I.

“I didn’t go because of what happened during my Senior year. I wasn’t into being there.”

The more I tried to remember, the more I realized that of all things we did back home this wasn’t one of them. And during the Spring Break week, I was covering my top with a college t-shirt, so he didn’t get a full view of me.

Now thinking back on it, it was contradictory in a way that we had emotionally shared so much, and in the physical it only went as far as the kiss and sharing a bed. I even believed he saw me in my underwear, so why the reaction in the suit?

I would feel at ease at all moments with him because I trusted he would never hurt me. And even him being a guy (who tend to be more liberal), also kept his privacy (including the bathroom door closed) when I visited him.

I realized that as much ‘open’ I thought we had been, we have closely guarded the outer shell that we present to the world and each other.

So how do you then define what we have? I don’t know, but when it comes to people, for sure there’s more than meets the eye.

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Needless to say, our friendship was what everyone would say it would never be: real. There’s always been the notion that just a friendship between a man and woman will never stay like that. But it did.

We both had romantic relationships during high school, to which we respected and supported of. There was never jealously or intervened as to how we should deal with it.

He was aware of some details of the inside’s of mine as I would consult him, and I would because I had confidence he would suggest what would be beneficial for me and not for him. He never once strayed me so I would end up with him.

I showed my respect towards his relationship as well. I wouldn’t ask much about it and as long as I knew it was doing well, I would be the same. Besides, because I felt he was doing right for me, I was confident he would do the same for himself.

We had such a strong bond that even my BF at the time (who all knew each other from school) realized that if he wanted to be with me, he had to accept our friendship. I was never shy of talking about him and with time my BF realized my other friend was no threat.

My BF eventually learned to respect our friendship and even went to him at one time for advice when things were not quite there. Thing was, my BF was away in college and the long distance was obviously distancing us, so my BF started fearing he would loose me.

According to my other friend, my BF went to the pharmacy and asked him to have a private chat. Upon my BF saying about the challenges the relationship was having and me going away, my friend replied with these transcending words: “Don’t pressure Emma too much because if you do, she might slip away like sand between your fingers”.

When my friend told me this story during his last encounters with me, I got surprised to what extent my BF had gone for to not loose me. But as always, my friend was right on point as to how well he knew me.

Even more, he shed light on a personal trait: being pressured too much into something has never worked well with me. I tolerate it, but eventually disconnect or walk away. I tend to avoid the confrontation and if I do, I just explode, and then things get really nasty.

As I have said before, sounds familiar? Why is it that I seem to have forgotten plenty, but some things just remain the same?

Is this good or bad? Don’t know. Maybe it’s a half and half, good when it works on your favor, bad when it doesn’t.

What will I do about it? I’m thinking.



The balcony had two railings: one facing the street and the other the pool area. The dry and wet areas were quite nice, good enough to hold any major gathering.

“So how many parties have you held there?” asked I.

“I’ve had some, but not what you’re thinking,” replied he. “They’ve all happened during the daytime and quietly.”

“No skinny dipping?”

“No! Don’t know what you’re thinking of me, but I know how far I can go. Besides, I’m renting here with someone else and applying to med school. I don’t want any negatives to affect those.”

Good, he’s being smart and nowadays anything bad eventually surfaces, especially on social media. In my time you could pretty much get away with what you did. Whatever one learned about it was thorough ‘word of mouth’. Depending how old the story was when it reached your ears, chances were the real version was totally different from what really happened.

“What about you? How much do you party?” asked he.

I gave him a puzzled look. “No, not really,” answered I and looked away towards the pool area.

“I don’t believe that. You’re a pretty girl and sure there’s other guys interested in you.”

“No, not much activity on that either.” I would look at him briefly, but quickly turned my sight away. Thinking about my current state of affairs regarding my social life was not something I wanted to do.

“Reality is I leave work late. By the time I get home, eat, shower and watch some TV, the day is gone. Then on weekends you have to take care of laundry or food shopping. I always have something to do.

I try to meet with my girlfriends, but they have their own life and responsibilities, so you do the best you can.”

I was listening to myself talk and questioned who was I really trying to convince here. For better or worse, this is my present situation which is as a result of my own decision of how to live it.

“Why are you looking away making weird facial expressions? Did I say anything wrong?” asked he.

“No, it is what it is.”

I looked at my watch and drank whatever was left of my wine. I knew he had studies to do the next day, so I used that as an excuse to go home. It was the best thing for me to do before I got sadder.

We agreed to ‘keep in touch’ as a way to end the night. At that point I didn’t really care if that happened or not.

I avoided the thought so much, I didn’t analyze whether this date had been good or bad.

Now that’s a first.



et cetera