The New M.E. Generation











My friend was able to get himself together to enjoy our meals. I tried to take his mind away from his grandmother by talking about him and his job search. He was optimistic as always and confident that the right opportunity would come along.

And as usual, I avoided talking about my plans since I had none, because I had no idea what I was to do with myself.

My self-esteem then was one of being able to find and secure a job, but not enough talent to aspire a high level position.

My friend would try to encourage me by saying that once I graduated I was now a professional and that would set me apart from other people. That sounded very nice, but holding a diploma in my hand wasn’t going to change me immediately into a whole new person.

Still, I tried to hold those positive thoughts that even being confused about my future didn’t meant to lose faith of having a fulfilling life.

Before my friend left, we bought some boxed wine and sat close to sundown on a boardwalk next to a river and my residence.

I borrowed my roommate’s glasses and drinking that wine was the best I’ve had. It was one of those special moments I had with him, but this one was different from all others. There was a peacefulness and tranquility I hadn’t felt in a while.

I sort of looked at him more than that of a friend, maybe because I thought that’s what he wanted from me, but again nothing happened.

I’m sure that the people that walked by thought we were a couple. But that feeling of leaving things as they were became present once more. As the word literally implies, I was about to leave school and he in a day to who knows where.

It was as when leaving high school; there were paths that we both needed to travel again for ourselves before they could cross again, if that.

Sitting there with him was one of those moments you wished it could stay like that. His advice and protection had always leaded me the right way which didn’t want to lose.

It’s a feeling I’ve never forgotten that if it could have been bottled and preserved for the future, would have done it.

But as I would learn the hard way many years later, even if you kept things well taken care of in a box (like the wine), they all have an expiration date.

What I mean is that people change and with that their feelings. When you see inside that box, its contents have also changed. They age greatly to the point that it’s hard to believe those moments actually happened. And the worst part is that instead of bringing us joy, the pain is even greater than the good.

So what are we to do? What do we now make of the ‘then’?

I don’t know; maybe just closing the box and leave what’s inside as it is. Perhaps it’s getting a new one and filling it up with experiences we create ourselves, without leaning on others to make it happen.

Maybe that’s what it is: creating more boxes as we go along and storing them in our minds, only to be opened when really necessary.

Yep, if only life was that simple.

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