The New M.E. Generation

“I don’t like it,” said my then spouse. “It’s too tight on you and makes your ass look big.”

Just when I thought it had sank to the bottom of the ocean, the body issue resurfaced faster than a torpedo launched from a submarine.

I’m standing in front of the mirror outside the dressing rooms. The saleswoman who helped me with the costume is speechless and so is everyone else who heard my “x’s” remark.

I kept looking at myself in the mirror and nothing crossed my mind. Now what?

What happened in-between this incident and the night of the party is now all a blur in my mind. He ended up dressing up as Neptune and me, yes, as The Little Mermaid, but not the first version. The final choice was more like the character in the movie with a halter-top and a long skirt that covered my legs. He chose that costume to complement mine.

The weeks previous to the party I was doing push-ups, walking, dieting, trying to look better for him. All guests once again complemented how great I looked, everyone except him.

What I do remember is grabbing the DJ’s microphone and singing my lungs out to Donna Summer’s ‘Last Dance.’ I needed to vent out my emotions and this was the only way I had to do it. I didn’t let anyone else get a hold of the microphone. This was my only chance to be on the spotlight for a few minutes and I went for it.

This party was another total success. I don’t recall if he thanked me for the party.

10 months later he was gone.

His sister also stepped out of my life. Neither during the first separation nor when my ‘x’ left me for good, did she made an appearance of any kind. No ‘I wish you the best’ or offering me anything that could help me along the way during that difficult period.

Like my former spouse, she also became and ‘x’. She was crossed out and is now non-existent in my life.

et cetera