The New M.E. Generation











‘Hi, how are you?’ read his chat.

‘Fine; thanks. Was about to reply to your messages’, wrote I.

‘Noticed you were online, so thought it was the best way to speak with you, for now.’

This gave me an uneasy feeling. More than misinterpreting what another person might be trying to communicate, I felt I was somewhat spied upon. It’s as if he was purposely keeping an eye on me, waiting for me to appear.

And what does he mean ‘for now’? Sounds to me that he’s going to decide my fate based upon a few sentences.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked him.

‘Your profile needs work. You’re either covering things or don’t want to be so open about yourself just yet.’

I was right. He’s somewhat interested in me, but because my first impression wasn’t that extraordinary to him, he’s going to decide to either continue pursuing me or not right this moment.

Second of all, who the hell are you to judge me, even less over a dating site profile?

I got angry, but I’m not letting it show.

‘I gave this site a try recently. Putting some more time into it is not my priority these days,’ I wrote.

‘If you want to get anywhere with it, you have to.’

Is that so? Wonder if I should mention that I get messages from 20-somethings.

‘How long have you been on the dating scene?’ asked I.

‘7 years.’

Give me a freaking break!

‘7 years??’ asked I.

‘Yes, but on and off. Have had some relationships here and there.’

And they haven’t worked out because:
(a) You’re a dick.
(b) You think you’re God’s gift to the world.
(c) You’re approaching this site as if it was a bride mail-order catalog.
(d) You think women in general need re-working so they can adjust to your mold.

Answer is: All of the above; but especially the last, because I (and women who are very clear of who they are) will not follow your shopping list.

I did that my entire life, living my existence for others or doing what they expected me to do at the expense of losing my self-esteem and sense of who I was. The one who needs to make changes around here is he.

I didn’t respond to his last chat right away, so he realized I wasn’t happy.

‘I’ve used different dating sites throughout the years, but I’m not active all the time.’

Whatever, you blew it. Still no response from me.

‘When you update your profile, let me know,’ wrote he.

‘Yeah’ is all I said.

I don’t (or care to) remember who ended the chat. After that day we never communicated again.

About a month later his profile was closed. I wasn’t surprised or even wondered if he had found someone.

Regarding my profile, still the same as he saw it and with the 100 answered questions.

And the answer to what to do about all this: you have to keep on trying.

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I turned my chair to face the wall, so no one could see my tears flowing down my eyes. It was one of those moments when not even waterproof make-up could conceal the emotions that were pouring out.

It started getting so bad, I grabbed my shawl and wrapped it all the way to my nose. More than for warmth, the item became my mask and handkerchief.

“This year has been so difficult,” said I. “I’m still with no guy. Every one that I meet isn’t worth anything. This month would have been my 20-year anniversary.

I know the grass is never greener on the other side. But there are times when I just feel that my life sucks and won’t change for the better.

I’m grateful that I have many blessings. But I’m not asking for much. I’m a good person and don’t understand why I’m still single.

All I want is to settle down, have a family, and live a tranquil existence. Why can’t I just get that?”

“You will find someone,” said he. “You have to be patient.”

“How many times you’ve told me that and still nothing? At least you’re always with someone, for better or for worse.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m happy. And, no, right now I’m not with someone. I want to take a break.”

“You always say that too. When I turn around you’re back in being in a relationship.”

“I know; I’m a disaster. But I really want to be alone for a while. When Thanksgiving comes, I’m getting a bottle of champagne and drink it all alone at my place. Not interested in going to any parties or anything.”

“You don’t have to be so extreme. You can celebrate the holiday very low key with people that really care about you.”

“I’m not in the mood to be with anyone. How about you?”

“I’ll be with family. I mean, it’s good, but won’t help much that I’m so sad, angry, frustrated at so many things. I need an extraordinary experience to happen to me that will give me a new perspective and change everything that I am.”

“Things will get better for you.”

“When? I’m tired of waiting. I want it to happen already.”

Ivan and I talked for a few more minutes. It was a brief conversation as usual, but it was the first one that after talking to him I felt some relief.

After hanging up, I turned to face the computer again and luckily nobody saw or heard me while talking.

I quickly ran out into the bathroom to hide and chill out for a few minutes.

I could barely look at myself on the mirror. But turns out using the shawl as handkerchief saved some of my make-up, so I was able to fix it good enough that people wouldn’t notice my tears.

Once back at my desk, I realized I didn’t thank Ivan for listening, or that to remember he had (sort of) promised to meet me one day for drinks.

So, call him again? I’ll drink to that.



“I’ve been single for a while now and I envisioned my life being something totally different from what it is now,” wrote I. “ I was confident I would have a boyfriend for sure and probably be remarried, sharing a home together.

I’m also not happy with my job. I work a lot which doesn’t leave me with that much time to have a social life; that in turn makes meeting a guy even less of a chance.

In general, I’m frustrated. I am making an effort in turning my life around but it has not worked the way I wanted.

So I feel alone, stuck, upset and much more about everything in general. What can I say? My life sucks. Hopefully this will answer your question.”

“I’m surprised you are telling me all this,” said he.” “I remember you being very happy, funny and cheerful.

I respect that you may not want to get into details about what happened to you before, as those stories I’m sure are plentiful and not always pleasant to go back to.

I only hope that you eventually get what you’re seeking.”

He remembers me for all that? Really? What I recall is that I wasn’t that much present in his life, but, hey, if I made such a good impression, that’s good.

I’m still wondering how I was able to be that during those years. My parents had divorced and I was a teenager in high school. It was a very difficult and confusing time dealing with all that. I didn’t know how I was going to pull through, but I knew I would, somehow. Sounds sort of  my life now.

And probably I gravitated towards him seeking what I was missing in my life that time.

Oh, gawd, why am I still on ‘repeat’ mode? Why can’t I just go ‘forward’ and never ‘rewind’ again?

 



et cetera