The New M.E. Generation











After this long-extended first date, Bob and I continued seeing each other once a week and speaking on the phone almost every night.

Among the new things I learned about him was that he had a motorcycle and boat. Regarding the first, he is part of this group of cyclists that get together when someone organizes a meetup via email. One Saturday he texted me some photos before they all went for a day-long drive.

Asking me if I have been on one, he was surprised to know that, unfortunately, that has not happened with me.

I told him the ‘closest’ experience was riding a scooter in a Caribbean island with my ex when we were in the initial part of our relationship. I wanted to add humor to my anecdote, so I said that ‘we drove all over the place on one day’, that each time a stop was made in a street light, ‘I would get up from the seat to stretch, as my body began hurting after a while’.

What was really hurting was my butt, but I didn’t wanted to use that language with him just yet. And I know I shouldn’t be including my ‘x’ in conversations, but, at the same time, I didn’t say anything negative about him in this instance because it had been a nice experience for me.

Bob then asked me if I would like riding a motorcycle, to which I said that ‘yes, I would be open to doing that’, but that I would have to do it a couple of times before I gave him a more concrete answer as to whether I like bikes or not.

Regarding boats, I do have experience with that. I explained to him that during ‘my past life’ there was one that we owned, and that I was enjoying it at the beginning. But after a while of waking up every Sunday, rushing to the marina, spending a few hours on it, to then quickly rushing back before the lift stopped working for the day, washing it, giving it maintenance, dealing with the hot weather, etc., it eventually took a toll on me.

It became unenjoyable of working the whole week, then doing chores or errands on Saturdays (basically meaning having only 1 free day of some rest). Even when considering vacations, the boat had to be included somehow, which also took the fun away of planning or doing anything different that was non-water related.

As much as I tried to digest it, reality is that you either love boating or not. It’s either or. There’s no middle ground here. Even if you feel so-so about it, it means that you don’t.

My ‘x’, on the other hand, had been boating since forever. Even more, his grandfather and father have owned boats.

This is so engrained within him, that when I told him one time that I didn’t want to go out on the boat, he took it very personal in that I didn’t wanted to be him, which wasn’t true.

I tried to explain myself to Bob as objectively as possible, with an unfortunate tone in my voice that ‘it was me that wasn’t feeling the boat’, hoping not to point the finger at anything or anyone.

But when I mentioned that my ‘x’ took it personal me not wanting to be in the boat, I accidentally said that “it was always about him, my marriage was all about that: him.”

It was a sad and hurtful moment to realize. It never occurred to my ‘x’ to ask me about my feelings that day about the boat or anything else that had to do with me. As long as I did everything he expected of me, all was ‘fine’. He never cared to go below the surface and see what was causing the whirlwind within me.

Bob then wondered how I felt about boating in general, to which I said that ‘I haven’t done it for so long, it feels as if I’ve never experienced it before; that I would also need to do it a couple of times to define what my feelings are about it in the present’.

I may have sounded negative, but I wasn’t going to jump all over with excitement about joining him on the boat if that was not the case. I know that it’s worse to lie to others because it will bite you back later on and can be turned against you. I prefer to be straightforward in the beginning so if the other person doesn’t like it, then better now than later to part ways.

In spite all that I said, Bob still invited me to join him on his boat on a Saturday. Nice. At least he seems to understand where I’m coming from. I think.

I did mean what I said that I would be willing to give it a try. Just because I have bad memories doesn’t mean I can’t create good ones now. Who knows, I might shift all the way to liking it completely.

You may ask if I have any emotions still linked to the first boat mentioned (and that guy). I will tell you this: after all these years being single, I now feel a huge relief that I don’t have to deal with anything related to both any more.

I have sailed forward the best of my ability and have discovered more than some new worlds.

I have found the calm after the storm.

 

 

 

 

 

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As time progressed, my bestie and I tried to make fun of whatever this guy and the bitch posted, even as insignificant the post would be, as it was perhaps the only way ‘to get back’ among ourselves to all this guy has done.

For example, clothes. One time there was this photo of both wearing an item of clothes in red, for Valentine’s, of course. He a long sleeve shirt, she a dress.

“That is so idiotic wearing almost the same thing as your significant other,” said I. “And that multi-color tie looks so 80’s! He looks like a waiter in some seafood restaurant. And that dress of hers looks sooo cheap! It’s one of those that not even the thrift stores want it because it won’t sell.”

“More like a casino dealer to me,” said my bestie. “Had it been me, I would never let him go out looking like that. And that shirt is not new. I remember seeing it when I was helping him pack for his move and I asked him about it. He refused to part ways with it like so much other stuff he had. He kept arguing that it was his OCD, blah blah blah. But that’s what happens when you let yourself be influenced by people who don’t have any class; you become like them.”

There was another photo of him at work wearing his mechanic uniform of a blue short sleeved shirt and shorts (that were held in place by a dress belt and the waist folded a few times), white socks and special black shoes (which the front part were worn out and had lost color).

“OMG, he’s so fat he looks like a stuffed sausage,” said I. “And what is that of using a dress belt with his work clothes? What did he do? Buy a ‘one size fits all’ pants so he could use it during all of his weight fluctuations?”

“And those shoes,” said my bestie, “I can understand that you may not want to buy new ones if the current ones are still good. But, please, get yourself a bottle of shoe polish and cover up those scratches. Even the dollar stores sell those.”

I think the funniest photo was one time he received a professional certification for completing a job. He was with the bitch and wearing a long sleeve black jacket, a lime colored polo shirt, and khaki pants.

“Those pants look so big on him; the legs area are really wide. And his hands are so swollen! He must have gained more weight,” said I. “When I first saw him he was somewhat chunky, but nothing bad. The next time he was really thin with a worn out face. He said it had to do with all that he was going through with the breakup and else. The following one he had gained it back, plus more. And his clothes, he seems to be using the same ones over and over.”

“He definitely has gained weight,” said my bestie. “And, yes, he looked bad when he lost it. He looked like someone who just came back from war. When I was with him during his move, he wasn’t taking care of himself. He wasn’t eating, the apartment was dusty and disorganized. It was such a sad place to be physically and emotionally.

And that jacket, pants, and lime polo, he’s had those for the longest and wears them constantly. You can tell they’ve been used far too many times or are out of style because the colors have faded. They’re those he should have started giving away and getting new ones little by little. I miss the days he always dressed so nice. He has turned cheap on that and other things, unfortunately.

Regarding food, he used to take me out to eat and would insist in sharing a plate to save money, or he would take home anything leftover. I understand that it’s not good throwing food away, but if it’s less than a few bites, just leave it.

At least she looks better dressed than him.”

“Next to him, anything that she wears looks good, even on her worst days,” said I. “She looks as bloated as he is. Those pants of her as so tight, they’re about to burst any moment now.”

The ones bursting with laughs were the both of us. Same say laughter is the best medicine. It may not cure all the bad feelings we may still have, but for today, it was just the right dose.



{February 23, 2015}   Looking Back 41 – Emotional trip

The long Valentine’s weekend came and I had no romantic plans for it. I know the whole thing is a cliché when you’re supposed to show your love and appreciation to your loved ones at all times.

Still, there were some instances where I had the thoughts that I’ve been single for quite a while, and only a few guys from past and present are worth rekindling on.

The weather had also turned quite cold, which felt like a correlation of how I saw my love life to be. But as in everything, it changes and one must adapt to it or succumb.

What I decided to do was to dedicate the weekend to myself, even if it meant doing totally unrelated ‘me time’ things like laundry. I wanted to rest as well, and even take advantage of store sales. The goal was doing things that made me feel good.

So I planned out my weekend: Saturday was for laundry and ironing; Sunday, supermarket, church, taking care of anything else; Monday, relax and hairdresser.

Saturday evolved as planned. Didn’t left my apartment the whole day, so I tried my best to enjoy it as best as I could in spite of not having an invite. I didn’t even mind the ironing when a good movie was on TV.

I made myself some dinner, showered and watched more TV in bed. My clean sheets felt great and nothing else mattered to me.

I was falling asleep closed to midnight when… I get a text from the beach guy.

‘Hey, happy valentine’s day. Hope you had a good day,’ wrote he.

‘Same to you. Stayed home doing laundry and I’m having a date with my bed.’

‘I was home all day as well. Spent the evening with my daughter who’s BF is out of town.’

‘At least you have company.’

‘You want me to visit you?’

‘That would be nice, but the distance is brutal.’

‘It is; what’s your address?’

‘What? You should have it stored in your GPS.’

‘Just trying to figure out the drive time silly. I have a new phone, new car, even new underwear.’

Whoa, whoa; hold your horses! This is just too much and I’m not talking about him trying to drive over here, and arriving at what time exactly?

And what about the new car and underwear? A new toy on top of all those you already have? Why? This sounds to me like you have a huge emotional void that just doesn’t get resolved.

If such is the case, then I should feel happy for myself. I think I have the material possessions that I need at the moment, and take care a lot of them until it’s time to part from them.

Honestly, I’m not liking the comment the more I think about it. The word ‘arrogance’ keeps circling my mind and it’s gaining momentum.

Then there’s the thing with the underwear. If we were back in high school, for sure I would be interested in looking at them with that great body you used to sport.

But now, no thank you. I think I can find more interesting ones to look at on the Internet, for free!

This all translates that if he comes here, I know I will get upset when I see the car. Fine, I know my insecurities will surface, so might as well put a stop to this ego trip before I get really upset.

What will I do about it? Nothing; I’ll just sleep over it.



Among the many other discoveries that Johann and I had during our emails, I learned that, when I was married, he and I were in locations separated by a 4-hour drive.

Unfortunately, this was the time before mobiles and social media, so knowing about each other’s existence would have never happened.

I was already living in the US and he was stationed briefly in an area known as ‘Mile Marker 0’.

Question is: Had we known about this, would had there been an attempt to meet?

I’m sure that would have crossed our minds, but the circumstances wouldn’t have allowed it.

For starters, accessing his location is not easy. Not even meeting halfway or looking for an alternative to do so would have worked.

Then there was the fact we were tied to another person. Mine always resented my male friends, even if they had been part of my life way before the marriage occurred, even if they were just that, best friends, because he felt threatened.
My ‘x’ eventually asked me indirectly to part ways with them, so seeing Johann would have caused an even greater resentment from my ‘x’ towards me.

If I had made it to where Johann was, it would have been an awkward situation, as word of my presence would have surely reached his wife.

The conclusion is that it didn’t happen because it was best not to, so the universe took care of it. It would have been heartbreaking for both not seeing each other.

But, it did intervene when it was meant to be. I am now free to mingle with whatever guy I want and even got all my friends back because they were the ones who really loved me.

And Johann never forgot about me (me neither) and found a new way to reconnect with me that fits everyone.

We may be again separated at a long distance, but we’re close again and that’s good enough for me.



{January 21, 2013}   Looking Back 11 – Crossing over

“So how’s that working for you?” asked he.

“What, damage control?”

“If you want to look at it that way, yes.”

“Well, my ex did a lot of hurting, but I’ve advanced in my recovery. I know that I did everything right in my marriage and that he fell out of love for me. The reasons why will always be a question for me. It’s all a work in progress but I will get to where I should be one day. That I know for sure.”

This guy and I kept exchanging emails until the universe intervened and let me know it was time for us to part ways again.

It was a natural thing. I stopped writing because I had nothing else to say and he had been more than a good doctor, he had been a good friend as well, the one I always wished for.

It was time for me to move on and start practicing the medicine he applied to me.

And just like that, one day while walking to work and about to cross the street, I see a small convertible car being driven by a guy coming my way.

I let it pass and looked at it while crossing. It was beyond a surreal moment. It was living that moment when I was a teenager all over again.

All those memories came back on a flash. At first I felt sad, but later I felt good. I finally came to terms to that time of my life like I have with so many other moments.

What we shared was meant for that time and only then. Now we’re living different lives and he returned to my life to help me give closure.

Like I said before, one day my life will shift gears and find the man I deserve to have. In the meantime, there will be many roads to cross and walk, but, you know what?

I’m going to be just fine.



I couldn’t get to sleep that night. All that had to do with he and I kept going around my mind over and over with no resolution.

When I finally fell asleep, I had a dream. In it, he and I were standing face to face. I looked at him straight to his eyes and repeatedly asked him, ‘Why did you leave me? Why?’ while trying to push him away.

He didn’t answer me. He held my hands and I lowered my head with tears coming out of my eyes. He then hugged me and I placed my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I felt an immense sense of peace.

I then woke up and stared at the ceiling in the dark, and it all came back to me. We never concluded what we had the last time we saw each other. We simply turned around and walked away from each other and our feelings. We let go of everything that joined us, but not of what we felt towards each other.

So what happens next? Nothing. What we shared belongs to that time and there’s nothing else for me to do other than learn from it and finally close that chapter of my life.

Maybe we needed to part ways and find each other again so we could get it right the second time around. And I think we finally did that, even in the distance. It is now up to us to decide if the connection remains or we part ways again.

Whatever the outcome, he will always remain in my thoughts and can only wish the best for him.

So I guess it will be good-bye, for now.



Our conversations continued, which eventually centered on love, relationships, marriage and my divorce.

I learned from him that his marriage was in a standstill. His spouse and he understood that they still loved and respected each other very much, but the way they envisioned the latter years was different for both. It means that they will have to separate for the sake of each other and their family. But, when that decision is to be made is yet to be determined.

“You know, getting divorced sucks,” said I. “As much civilized and respectfully you may do it, or, like in my case, it was the best that could have happened to me, it’s a very difficult process, especially when children are involved.

I know I am in a much better place right now, but I’m still dealing with my recovery, and I will probably do so for many more years.

The circumstances regarding your relationship are your private matter and what you, or both, decide to do is as well. But I will say this; you and I are not getting any younger. Every day, week or month that goes by is like a year of life for us.

If what you are telling me is the truth, then the two of you should part ways and live the life you both deserve. Do it when you still have the time and drive to start over again.”

He didn’t respond to what I told him other than that I was right. And, between you and me, of course I wished he were single again. But, unfortunately, he, like most of the guys I’ve met, has an attachment, or complication.

Darn it, will I ever meet a guy that is hassle-free?



et cetera