The New M.E. Generation

The bar was quite a nice place to sit down and enjoy the night, as it allowed to being more relaxed and less formal from sitting at a table. There was even music playing. I was feeling surer of myself already.

“Do you want to have a drink first and then move to a table?” asked he.

“I’m fine staying and eating here. The ambience is quite nice.”

When it was time to order the drink, I made the mistake of asking for a mixed one, which I normally don’t.  I thought because I had munched at home I would be fine.

But when I tasted it, damn, the effects really hit me hard inside, like in my stomach, and how it felt was not good. It was like a bomb. Then the second one touched ground.

“So,” asked he, “tell me about yourself.” (Small talk here it comes.)

“Well, I’ve been single for a couple of years now…”

“Shit happens.” (That’s not nice! I was very disappointed by his comment, but I wasn’t going to show it.)

“Yes, it does,” said I. I said it just to keep the conversation going.

He then asked me what I did for a living, fun and else. I answered that my life was not that different from others. I work, get home, exercise, make dinner, clean up, go to sleep, etc., and take care of things during the weekend.

Regarding fun, I would usually meet with my girlfriends for a drink and maybe share an appetizer or two, either at a bar or someone’s home. There were all inexpensive and simple, allowing us to chat and share an update of our lives.

On the other hand, this guy had nothing in common with me, other than he didn’t have children. He’s never been married, works hard and equally plays so, which I already knew. Whatever conversation followed did not have much substance, so the best effort was made to keep the night as enjoyable as possible.

I kept drinking so I wouldn’t have to talk much and cover my angry face, but eventually it caught up with me. My stomach was getting upset too.

How can this date be saved from sinking? Food?

Thank goodness for networking sites, and that he had a name that was not an average one. I did a quick search and, there he was!

I was sure he was to remember me, so I sent him a message, which basically summarized my life in the last few years and our last encounter at the deli so many years ago.

I got a response the next day and kept corresponding the following ones. When we got to the specific of that day, his revelations were quite moving to me.

“I was very happy to see you,” said he, “but when I walked over to meet your ‘x’, it just didn’t feel good.

He gave me a vibe that he thought he was better than others. He didn’t like meeting me; his face said it all. That’s why I didn’t sit down at the table, as he was unwelcoming.

Even more, he completely overshadowed you, and didn’t want you to be your true self.

He didn’t even seem to be ‘real’, more like shallow or perhaps ‘empty’. His eyes didn’t show any life or substance.

I’m sad to hear what happened to you. But I think you are better off having him out of your life.

Seems to me that you have made great strides in your recovery and if there’s still any part of you from those years I used to know you for, I am sure you will come through as yourself again.”

As I was reading this, I only wanted to cry, big time. As I have reconnected with more and more people, especially guys, I could not believe how accurate they were all of ‘that guy.’

Yes, I wanted to cry, not because of the truth, but because it was right there before me throughout so many years and I let it happen.

I let him mistreat me and control me with the same result; he left me anyway.

How did I allow it? Why wasn’t I seeing it? Maybe so much negative occurred that I shut down or blocked it. Maybe I was still hoping some day things would have gotten better, or maybe change. Maybe I was holding on to the impossible.

The problem was he didn’t want to change. Instead, he placed the blame on other people or things so he didn’t have to look at himself, and accept he was the cause of the rupture on the relationship.

That’s why he left so easily, and all occurred the way they did.

I sat there and cried for a while regretting all the wasted years and how much more I hated him every day that passed.

I have no good words for him and wish him the worst in the world.

et cetera