The New M.E. Generation











“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.

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I made the call and about 4 rings later, got his voicemail, not with his voice, but those who are automated (‘You have reached the mailbox of…).

I’ve always hated those, so impersonal and robotic. Besides, he’s a guy and the voice is that of a woman. Why aren’t there other alternatives that might ‘personalize’ it somehow?

So, in my usual manner, I left Ivan the same message I always do. “Hi, Ivan, it’s me, Emma. Just calling to say hello and know how things are going with you. Hope all is well. Call me if you can.”

He called me back about 3 days later while I was at work. That’s what usually happened; he would either never return my call, or do so at a day and time it would be difficult for me to give him my undivided attention, forcing the call to conclude quickly.

I know he’s always busy and returning my call it’s done in-between the little free time he has. But the real reason he would do it this way is because he’s not much of a talker, especially with me. He knows I will tell him the truth about his existence and, when I do, I’m not nice.

But this time around, I was the one who needed to be listened to. It was almost the end of the year and this one had been particularly difficult.

On top of that, I was still without a guy, would have been my 20-year anniversary, as well as my late father’s birthday.

At work, things were complicated as well. My boss was giving me a hard time and the other assistant couldn’t take the heat from her either.

Every day that I would walk through the door, this person would have a long face and would immediately start bitching about the boss.

Everything just piled up and I was reaching my breaking point. I didn’t know what to do. Beyond feeling that life was unfair to me, I felt time kept going by and I was stuck in the same place as always. That moment of great change hasn’t happened and was wondering if it would ever do.

“Hey, Ivan, how are you?”

“Fine, sweetie; how are you? Sorry I’m calling you at work.”

“It’s all right; I can talk for a few.” Lucky me, my boss wasn’t in the office. “Actually, no, I’m not that well.”

“What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“Question is, what has not happened to me.”

And just like that, this need to cry out all my emotions suddenly overwhelmed me.

No turning back now. Have to let it all out.



et cetera