I read the discussion “Do the ideas change?” And I think I have to say something about the relationship between people of very different ages . I write to you, Project, then you see what to do with my mail, if you think it’s appropriate, include it in the discussion because I would like to know what the guys think. Naturally, I’m especially interested in what you think about it, because, from the chapter of “Being gay” that you have dedicated to this topic, I think it is not the first time you are faced with situations of this kind. So, let’s get to the point.
I’m 49 years old, at 20 I fell in love with a man much older than me, who was 57, although youthful appearance. My “he” (I will call him Renzo) died two years ago and I miss him terribly. We have been together for 27 years, we have had so many problems, especially due to the fact that people don’t accept this type of relationship and don’t understand that they can be relationships of love in the true sense of the word.
We also had our misunderstandings and in 27 years it happened several times, but then we always came back together because we were well together. I loved Renzo but I didn’t look for a father, at least I never saw him like that, there was a real complicity between us, a way of understanding each other that I think was unique. At the beginning it was difficult because he wanted to keep a certain distance, he felt old and didn’t want to make me any kind of obligations and he didn’t understand that he didn’t create anything of that kind.
We were a couple in the most beautiful sense of the term, even if at the beginning we had to hide because my family would never have accepted a story like ours. For me it was a total reference point, first he taught me to live and then he also taught me to die with dignity and, I would say, with serenity. In the last period he often told me that his life had been a happy life because he had met me, he also told me that he was not afraid of death, that it is a natural thing and that an old man can prepare himself to this event slowly. He never complained, it was he who gave courage to me.
For us there were no civil marriages and for this reason he thought in advance to leave me his assets before they ended up in the hands of distant relatives who had never dealt with him. He did these things with the utmost commitment, I tried to remove the idea of his death but he treated it with clarity, preparing everything with the utmost care. The last days I stayed with him at the hospital even in the night, he was very weak but he always tried to smile at me and I used to held his hand. Unfortunately I was not close to him at the end because they brought him to intensive care and when they let me in he was already dead.
I did everything according to his instructions. At the funeral there were no relatives, he had only distant cousins who hadn’t even been informed, at the funeral there were only a few common friends, among the very few who knew everything about us. He explicitly forbade me from mourning and told me that in my life nothing had to change, he also forbade me to go to the cemetery more than once a year.
After the funeral I felt very bad, right on the verge of deep depression and bad ideas started to go through my head, but he had warned me and had insisted very much in order to push me to do something “good” and I remembered it and started to volunteer during my free time. I would have devoted myself to the elderly but I have been assigned to manage a small clinic (I’m a doctor), for those who cannot even pay the ticket. When we met, Renzo was doing something similar (he too was a doctor) and it seemed strange to me at that time, but then I started to understand the value of these things. Sometimes they called him the night for an emergency and we used to go together.
He did not spare himself, and if he understood that people could not pay, he did his duty completely free. He didn’t go to church, but if anyone needed him, he didn’t hold back and did his best to help him. He was a good man, he thought more of others than himself. I miss Renzo badly, I feel a vacuum inside and I never fell in love with anyone else. I remember how he knew how to reassure me, how he could make me reason when doubts about a thousand things invaded me, especially about the profession. I felt unsuitable, too inadequate to be a doctor and he told me that I was a very serious and competent doctor.
In short, today, two years later, I still feel close to him. I lived the life I wanted. At first he was reluctant, he could hardly believe it, then he saw that I really loved him and he felt completely free. Among us there was also sex, of course, and even in the sex I felt that he tried to make me feel comfortable and make me feel good. He was a profoundly good man, a little like I wanted to be, and this has me pushed to fall in love with him. We loved each other and I think I would never have found happiness if I had not met him. I know very well that for many people what I wrote is pathological but for me it was the true happiness of life.
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-a-gay-couple-27-years-together