The New M.E. Generation











Continuing with the laughable posts, then there were those when this guy and the bitch would go out to a bar or restaurant. The photos were pretty much the same: them two sitting side by side on the table or standing up, she putting her arms on his shoulders, he with his arms crossed or palms closed on the table without making contact, looking away from her, sometimes with a funny look on his face.

“Look how glassy his eyes are. He’s had more than a few drinks and has a buzz. So typical of him,” said my bestie. “Worst of all, all those locations he appears at, he took me there when I visited him. He probably did it on purpose hoping to come across with that bitch and make her jealous. ”

“Really?? He probably did the same with me when I was at his mom’s. What an asshole!” said I. “It always puzzled me, and made me uncomfortable, the times we would see each other that either we had to go out for drinks, or would be drinking one glass after the other like water at his mom’s house. They would be too loaded for my taste and could only take a few sips.

Even after telling him that I didn’t want to drink, he would offer it again over and over. I don’t remember him being that way before. He liked to have a few beers with me and that was it.

He even told me that when he was living with the bitch, they wouldn’t go out much because they lived in an expensive city. But that once in a while they forced themselves to go out and have just one drink.”

“If I was in his shoes I would be much the same,” said she. “He might be pretending all that he wants, even liking anything that bitch posts, but he’s not that happy as he’s portraying to be.”

“I agree, said I. “Look at his body posture. When someone is with their arms or hands closed, it means they’re hiding something, that are not being honest. His shoulders are down because of her arms holding him like if he was some property of her. And there’s always a gap in their bodies; they’re not touching completely, which means distancing.

And that photo of him standing up, he looks like an old man about to fall down and his caretaker is holding him to avoid that. Those glassy eyes makes him look like his mind is totally gone or has no idea where he is. The hands look bloated like somebody that has some medical condition. But, he’s still with her. Unbelievable.”

“Because it’s easier to go back to what’s familiar to you,” said she. “He couldn’t score anything with you. Me, I did want to be with him, but not on his terms. I wasn’t willing to let him control the relationship. I told him that if it happened, he had to change a lot of things about himself. He got upset about that and tried to turn the situation around against me, but I quickly put him on the spot.

He kept saying that, ‘this is the way I’ve been and will always be’, that ‘my OCD doesn’t let me do things differently’, that ‘the way I am has worked for me’. But he knows I don’t buy any of that, and was not going to feel sorry for him and let him manipulate me.

Being with the bitch works for him because he thinks he’s in charge. Because she behaves ‘como foca de circo’ (like a seal in the circus), that applauds him on whatever he says and does, that’s why it ‘works’.

Also, he always said that ‘él es un enfermito’ (he’s a kinky guy). It’s better to just reach for her and get what you need, instead of having to start from scratch with a stranger. I mean, look at him, who wants to be with him, especially with that religious fanaticism and unstable life?”, continued she.

“When he visited me and wondered if he could share my bed with me, it didn’t make me feel good. He had always told me to be choosy about the guys I would be with at any level. I may know him since being an adolescent, but his proposal gave me the same uneasy feeling as with any other man. It was like he was violating my trust for him. Besides, just thinking that he had sex with that bitch disgusts me. No way will I do it with him,” continued I.

“I really wish their relationship explodes big time, especially from her side. He kept telling me that she wanted to live in a way that was beyond their means. She likes getting her nails done weekly, buy nice jewelry, go out to restaurants. I hope when things financially get really bad and she realizes that her dream lifestyle will never be, she ends up leaving him,” said my BFF.

“She won’t leave him as long as you and I are on the loop,” said I. “If she does, in her mind it means she lost and it’s an open field for you to come back into play. And I’m 4 hours away from his mom’s house, which is also a threat to her. Plus she’s an attention whore; she has to keep up the drama in front of her peeps.

But when you’re in a toxic relationship, this is what happens. They’ll go down one day like you’ve said before. It will not end well.”

“You know what I thought about one time? Asking him to meet me in a hotel and when he opens the door, then both of us are there. I can just imagine his face when he sees us,” said she.

“Don’t worry. There will come a time that you and I will get the chance to get back at him, either in person or online. We’ll just know,” continued I. “A plan will be made and executed, guaranteed to give them both a big slap on the face. But as he always said, ‘calladita te ves más bonita’ (being quiet makes you look prettier),” concluded I.

Yep, pretty as in smart, intelligent, well-mannered, classy, and soon-t0-be, smart-ass.

‘I feel pretty, oh so pretty…’

 



“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.



We kept communicating via email as time went by. We didn’t do it often, but it was nice to talk about pretty much anything that pertained to us individually.

One day he sent me some pictures I’ve sent him that I had forgotten about.

There was one of me wearing my uniform at school, standing in front of one of the classroom’s door. I had a big smile on my face with my arms crossed.

It was taken with my camera and the photos were developed at a local drugstore at a walking distance from my home and school.

Every time I had a roll to develop, I would walk by myself to the store and drop them off. As soon as they were ready, I would write a letter to Johann and send them out.

The second one was a passport photo. I was wearing a white blazer, which was actually my father’s jacket in another time. I found it on my grandparent’s house and fell in love with it. I would roll up the sleeves and thought I looked really fashionable.

One thing I really forgot about was that, not only did I write notes on the back of the photos, but also would always sign them, ‘Love always, Emma’.

The writing on one of these photos conveyed a feeling that I didn’t know where our lives would take us or what would happen to our friendship, but that I would always remember him as having a special place on my heart.

Yes, that’s who I was back then, a hopeless romantic, writing all these things as if they were taken out of a romantic novel.

I wrote these words with no expectations for anything in the future, not knowing how much they would impact our lives and, even less, if I would get to read them again.

They were certainly those of a teenager who had no idea that these thoughts would transcend time and would still be felt the same way today as they were more than 20 plus years later.

Time may pass, but feelings don’t.



I have a storage unit that contains all the personal belongings I have gathered throughout my life.

I needed to do some cleanup as well as finding something I was looking for. I had no idea in what box it was to be found, if that, so I opened one by one and searched their contents.

One of those boxes was filled mostly with photos and letters. I kept pulling things out when I abruptly stopped. In the bottom of it were Johann’s letters, all of them, totally intact after all this time. I held them like I had found a long lost treasure.

I took a cushion, placed it on the floor, and read them. There they were; the one with the pendant still taped to the card and the one he was telling me he was getting married. Memories came back to me quickly and I smiled at every one.

I was all by myself on the top floor of a storage unit remembering my past. I kept searching in all other boxes and came across a lot more than I thought I would.

My entire life was preserved in all those photos, notebooks, letters, journals, and whatever else I had.

But Johann’s letters were particular emotional. It has been more than a decade since I last knew of him, but I never quite forgot about him. Touching the stationery was like reconnecting with him during those times we were friends.

Some tears also came down my face because he made me so happy and he brought out in me so many wonderful things that no one else has.

I got sad because he was gone, and so that girl he once knew, and I needed so much for both to be back in my life.

I pondered upon finding him, but asked myself, would he remember me? Would he be interested in being friends again?

Universe, I have a request to ask you: please let it come back to me.



It’s been a while since I last spoke with Ivan and was curious about his well-being.

The last relationships he’s been involved at were really complicated. He was with someone he knew wasn’t the best person to be with and the issues involved would get from bad to worse.

If we ever spoke on the phone he would sound very unhappy and that he just didn’t know how to resolve the problems or even get out of the relationship all together.

He last told me that he and his girlfriend would either give it one more try or break-up all together.

Listening how things were developing, I knew they would stay together. There was something about Ivan that wouldn’t allow him to break away from this bad stuff and start over.

I can relate to that. Maybe he doesn’t want to be alone, doesn’t know or want to deal with his solitude, or that there’s no other choice out there, so might as well suck it up and deal with what you have.

I went through these stages myself and learned to be comfortable with my space with or without someone, and that we need to deal with our issues. But there are times when even doing our best is not enough and we need to conclude what we’re doing and move on.

So I sent him a text message and, to my surprise, got a call back a few days later. His voice sounded way better.

“Hey, you sound good!” said I. “Before you were so down, like you had no idea what to do with that relationship you were involved with. So what happened finally?”

“We decided to give it a try one last time but eventually ended the relationship for good,” answered he.

“I’m glad you did because it was taking a toll on you. Like I’ve told you before, I think you’re a good guy and deserve better. Are you seeing anyone now?”

“I know. Neither of us was happy so the break-up was inevitable. I’m actually seeing someone that I knew from before, but we’re just dating. How about you?”

“No, no guys on the horizon at this time.”

“I’m sure you will meet someone good. You just have to give it time.”

“I hope so. Sometimes I wish I could just go out and have a drink with someone once in a while.”

“I could do that with you now when time allows.”

Well, that would be nice, but it actually happening, I don’t expect it to. With Ivan, like most of the other guys I’ve met, if I don’t make the effort of seeing each other, it will never happen.

But at least the thought and good wishes are encouraging.

And like I’ve done many times before, I’ll just throw it into the universe and see what happens.



It felt like last year all over again. We were basically talking every day for long extended periods of time.

I was again telling him about all my happenings, especially those concerning guys. I was giving him too much info, which was making him jealous because he wished it were him who I was with (me too).

All those emotions we felt last year surely came back, but there was one I really needed to take care of, the hurt he caused me when he abruptly ‘disconnected’ from me.

“Listen,” said I, “ I appreciate you contacting me again and listening to all my stories, but what you did was very hurtful to me, and I’m still not quite over it.”

“I had no idea how deep it was for you. I don’t know how much more I can apologize or make you feel better. Like I told you before, finding you again turned out totally different from what I expected.

It all happened so fast, these emotions I felt again towards you, and I just didn’t know how to handle it. I shouldn’t have proceeded the way I did and I was wrong. All I can do is promise I won’t hurt you again,” said he.

I sort of felt better, but not really. Reality was we were back to where we did before: we wished we could see each other (and be together), but it’s not possible now, probably never.

So all that there’s to it is just enjoy these brief moments we have together, even in this distance, and just hope some sort of miracle might happen for us, whatever that might be.



About a week or so after I had gone out to the lounge, I got a call to my mobile. Since I did not recognize the number, I decided not to answer it and have the call go to voice mail (hey, isn’t it what it is for?).

The caller did leave a message and, to my surprise, it was Jeffrey. More surprising was what he said. “Hey, it’s Jeff. I was driving around your area and, don’t know why, but I felt the need to call you.”

Oh, how nice it felt when I heard that! I even put my hand at my heart and shrugged my shoulders for how moved I got.

It was a great feeling indeed. His tone of voice sounded soft and sincere, like he appreciated me for who I was and not some ‘crazy cougar’ he met at a bar.

And getting that line of ‘I felt the need to call you’ sounded very romantic to me.

Even more, I felt loved again. I felt for a moment like I was flying on air. I felt pretty and every other good feeling in between.

I heard the message again several more times before calling back. More than showing that perhaps I was desperate (which I was, greatly), I wanted to enjoy this brief moment.

I had no idea what would happen after I returned the call. But during those minutes that I sat there and listened to the message, I had the feeling that my life would be just fine.

It is, so far, right now.



et cetera