The New M.E. Generation

The conversation was still going, even after we got all sad for each other and ourselves.

“Emma, have you ever been happy?”

Wow, the question felt deeper than the pain I experienced when he dumped me. I gave it a thought before answering.

“That word for me is so delicate to define,” said I. “I think people use it all the time, but don’t understand the true meaning of it.

Honestly, yes, I’ve had my good moments to remember, but the not so good ones are greater and make me forget the first.

Right now I shoot for peace and tranquility, to get to a good place. But once in a while I should look back to those good times.

Although they bring me a brief joy, I have to wish for that again, don’t you think?

It’s like right now, all the situations that I’ve had with men have not turned out as I hoped for, but some instances are worth laughing about and holding on to.

And how much I’ve grown as a person and the knowledge that I’ve gained is worth every tear that I’ve shed.

In this few years I’ve lived so much, more than in other moments of my life, that I think I now know how to find this so called ‘happiness’.

How about you? What’s your take on it?”

Some people believe that when we sleep, our souls leave our bodies to wander and, at many times, go to places or find people that otherwise would be impossible to do in our present state of existence. These encounters are presented through our dreams.

If such is real, I then journeyed to find him, the guy who ‘unfriended’ me. And I did.

From what I remember, it was a brief dream. We were both walking slowly side by side on a city street.

It was winter and he was wearing a brown suede jacket. Our hands were inside our coat pockets and looking straight ahead at all times. Other people passed us by.

This occurred in the present time because he was discussing with me the incident that lead to the ending of our friendship.

I was still upset, but was listening to him objectively. I allowed him to speak and I kept quiet while he did.

That’s all I remember.

I had mixed feelings when I woke up. There was a part of me that was glad we finally had the conversation I wanted. But I don’t think I got the resolution I needed.

I didn’t forgive him for what he did, and I never heard something truly important to me: that he had feelings for me back then and now.

I need to believe that what we shared in college was real. I know in part I was in need of affection, but had I not felt the way I did when we reconnected, I wouldn’t feel the way I do now.

Part of the reason for the friendship ending is that he had to ‘delete’ his feelings for me because he can only have them for his spouse.

At times I still question, did he ever love me? Or did our present chemistry was as a result of me helping him reconnect with who he was and those moments that made college so special to him?

Possibly (for both), and I’m just holding on to something that probably won’t happen; getting to hear ‘Emma, I did love you’.

I won’t deny that I still think about him, but not as often as I used to. I wonder if he does the same. We haven’t communicated for a while and probably will remain that way.

If what I said in the beginning is true, I can only wish we might find each other again, even for another moment, in a place we can finally embrace, away from everything and everyone we know. A place where we can be ourselves, that will allow me to forgive him and finally let him go.

What a soulful experience that would be.

“Emma, when I contacted you I had no other goal than knowing how you were and maybe keeping in touch from time to time. I never thought that by doing so it would bring back feelings for you in the way that they have. You don’t know how much I wish I could see you again.”

“The thing is that we live in separate states. Even if you eventually became single, you would still need time to recover.

It has taken me a long time to finally settle down after my divorce. I gave up all before to be with a guy and I’m not doing that at this time. My plans are to stay where I am.

It’s like our whole experience is repeating again. I guess life took care of it by not allowing us to be together because it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Please don’t say that we will never see each other again. I get it, you don’t need to be any more hurt than what you already are, and I wouldn’t hold on to the impossible. Feeling the way you do is the same mechanism you used in school to deal with it.

But I care for you, and this time I’m not going away. I want to be part of your life somehow, that is, if you want me to.”

“I can’t express to you how I feel, even less give closure to this new experience. How can I then define what you could be in my life? I don’t know. I never thought I would have to deal with something like this; not now, not this way.”

‘I can’t believe you don’t remember anything,’ wrote he. ‘We were more than friends in the sense of being affectionate to one another like kissing, hugging.’

All right, I don’t need to read any more. I know what happened here. Translation: I fell for him, a lot.

I may not remember much, but I do recall falling for guys somewhat fast, just like I did after I became single again. There has obviously been an emotional need I had to fulfill then and now.

So, did I fall for him for the right reasons, meaning, I had genuine feelings for him as a person and not because of what he was providing? Was there something real between us?

I mean, was it that bad that I unconsciously deleted all the data? I don’t think it was, but maybe I’m just trying to hold on to the nice moments to feel good about it.

‘You were a very lovable person with me, and I did had some feelings for you, otherwise, we wouldn’t have lasted together all the time that we did,’ said he. ‘Apart from the fact that you looked great then, and still do so now, you were equally that way inside. There was this goodness in you that made it easy for me to love you.

I have to admit that after contacting you, some of those feelings have resurfaced and that has not happened with other women I dated in school and have also reconnected with.

It hurts me to learn that your ex divorced you because I know any guy would be lucky to be with you. I will say this, if I was single, I would hop on a plane and visited you the first chance I had. I would love to see you again and rediscover what we once shared.’

Hmm, remember what I don’t remember? That would be nice.

But, what about this sadness I feel inside? What’s it all about?

I did not get to talk to Ivan one last time via phone, but in person. I don’t remember how it came about, but he came over to visit me.

He was resting on the sofa, looking more tired than I could remember. I even sensed some sadness in him.

“Is everything all right?” asked I somewhat concerned while holding his hand. It felt nice doing that. It’s like having forgotten how it felt.

“Just tired. Too much work,” said he while staring at me.

“Are you having problems or something? You can tell me.”

“We all have problems.”

“I know. But it helps to talk about things. It sure did for me when my whole mess started.” I kept holding his hand, hoping that, somehow, he would finally open up to me.

“Did I ever told you I was married once?,” said he.

“No! For how long?”

“Two years.”

I was totally surprised that he finally opened up, somewhat.

I finally realized the source of his sadness in his eyes. Obviously the relationship had gone wrong in such a way that he just wanted not to think about it. Sounds familiar?

I kept talking to him and holding his hand. But as much as I tried for him to open up more, he simply didn’t.

I think he is where I was some time back. You were hurt so bad you avoid that happening to you again by simply not opening your heart to anyone else.

You achieve that, not feeling anything for someone else or getting hurt. But you also achieve in turning people away, even when they want to love you (like me).

I couldn’t avoid feeling heartbroken. I was hoping something good would have come out of this. I couldn’t forget the night we met, when we kissed, when we held our hands while walking.

All I could do was to hold on to that memory.

Hold on to the wish that one day I will finally find love again, and hold it in my hands to never let go of it for good.

et cetera