That’s Where They Get Ya!

 I am now 43. I got engaged when I was 41. I took the prospect of marriage pretty seriously and didn’t marry the first girl who showed up. Indeed, my now-ex broke up with me because she felt like it was going nowhere. So needless to say, getting engaged became a high priority.

Then I had a stroke.

When I… let me backtrack…

When the pandemic began we were in New York. She had moved to my neighborhood and was at my tiny apartment when everything shut down. At first, we were at my place, but within a couple days, she called her dad to come rescue us.

I can remember rushing us out to her dad’s suburban, most of my things in garbage bags. Needless to say, 2020 had some issues…

After a few weeks, she came and told me her parents were getting on her nerves, so we could go to Texas. Right around this time, my mother had told me she had cancer, so from my standpoint, this was a good opportunity for my mother to meet my girlfriend. And so we were off.

We spent a few months in Austin, where I attended college years prior, then we headed to the town where I grew up, where I bought a house.

A year later, my mother seemed better, but COVID was still raging. So I bought us a different house in the country. This new house had a pool and would be a good place regardless of how long we would be there.

At this point, we were engaged. I got her a diamond ring, and I thought we were happy. Because my uncle died from covid after joking about it, I had become more inclined to avoid it. Specifically, I was inclined to wear my mask when indoors.

Then I had a stroke.

I dated in New York. That inevitably means going out with some girls who leave you questioning the entire institution of marriage (one I quite liked but goodness no).

And so eventually, I started to believe the BS. My now ex would say we’re each others’ “forever people.” Et cetera. She would say stuff that made me feel really special and loved, but it was all just words. As soon as things got tough, she set the desertion wheels in motion.

I write this all alone, and I can’t give up. Firstly, it’s against my constitution. Secondly, weaker individuals have overcome more. And most importantly, we have a lot to do. I had the good fortune of “standing on the shoulders of giants,” and now it’s time to pay them back by paying it forward. Who invented antibiotics*?! No idea, but I’m supremely glad they did!

* was it Louis Pasteur?

We have a lot to do. Selfishly, we have a lot to do for medical technology. We can’t be lollygagging. It’s go-time.