Hello Project, I was pleased to talk with you in the chat, last night, it was an unexpected thing but very positive for me. In practice, the first time that I could talk freely about myself and my sexuality. I was struck by your answers, always very calm, that is, answers that tended to calm me down and make me notice the normality of so many things that seemed strange to me. I decided to send you this email to go even more specifically. I changed the references of the places and the names of the people, but the facts are exactly those that happened to me, so if you want you can post the email on the forum. I proceed by chronological order.
I’ve always been gay in an exclusive way, that is, I have wanted for years, since I was eleven or twelve, to be in sexual intimacy with males, with young peers or a little older. The fantasies of masturbation were always and exclusively gay, but I also had a girlfriend, I even had sex with this girl, we masturbated each other and about ten times we have also had complete intercourse, but I never felt heterosexual. I could even have sex with a girl, but that was not what I wanted. If I could have chosen whether to do it with a girl or a guy I wouldn’t have had the slightest doubt, but the girls wanted me and courted me ruthlessly, practically they offered “what they had to offer” on a silver plate, while of guys I couldn’t even see the shadow.
Even when I was with my girlfriend my masturbation was always and only with gay fantasies, I tried to force myself to use hetero fantasies but it was just a way to rape me, and then honestly I was not in love with my girlfriend, it bothered me when she would send me text messages or when she phoned me and started to chat and didn’t finish it anymore.
When I was with my girlfriend I was 18-19 and it started because I could not say no and, I must say, the thing, a little (but very little) she intrigued me. The first times we had sex, just masturbation, I studied on the internet what to do (I know it’s absurd but it is so), then when it came to having complete intercourse, my tool … refused to do its work, but in the end I succeeded, but, you know, it was a very poor thing. I think that for a straight guy who penetrates a girl, especially the first times, ejaculation arrives early and is powerful, at least that’s what I’ve always heard, for me it was not so, I didn’t have a spontaneous orgasm and the orgasm came only later when she was masturbating me. And I must say that many times I asked myself what I was doing there, anyway we had sex non too much rarely. And it happened about ten times. She was happy and just didn’t realize that the thing told me almost nothing.
Now I am 27 years old, I graduated and I found a job. Towards that girl I didn’t feel repulsion but I felt that having sex with her wasn’t something that belonged to me, and anyhow with another girl I would never have gone, not even at that time, with that girl the opportunity had been created and it has been however unpleasant to break the relationships, because there were resentments, but I was already very determined to do everything to never find myself in a similar situation again.
However, now it’s been over for eight years. And then, once the story is closed with that girl, I didn’t want to know any other girl just because I wanted a guy. I spent the night chatting in search of the right guy, but frankly there was no one who seemed to me the right guy. That was my nightlife, the day life was that of the classic straight guy or rather the classic guy without sexual interests at least apparently, dedicated only to study and friends.
And here I begin to get to the heart of the matter. At university I got to know a lot of guys. First we talk a bit about the university, then we start studying together, then we get to know each other better, there’s pizza together, the sport, which is fundamental for us, then we start going on holiday together, or at least start going out together on Sunday, in short, we become friends and, let’s say, the selection of friends is something automatic. It starts with a small group that becomes increasingly smaller and more tied. Let’s say that when I was twenty I had many friends, but weren’t real friends , while at 23 or 24 I had less friends but between us the relationships were much closer. Let’s say that around the age of 25 a group of 4 guys was formed, who by now seemed inseparable.
We used to have lunch one day at parents’ house of one of us and another day at the parents’ house of another. Our friendship was a public fact and accepted by our families. We had known each other for study purposes and we could have given us a hand over the university. One day it occurred that Laurence (obviously a changed name) told us that we could go to the gym together, in one amateur group of volleyball, it was a sport that all four of us liked and we enrolled in the local volleyball association. Here I have to open a parenthesis. The four of us were fine together, none of us four had a girlfriend at the moment, but all four of us (including myself) had had a girlfriend, but none of us spoke of girls or disco.
It was then that I began to wonder what was common among us that made us feel so good together and I began to get the idea that it was really the fact that we didn’t talk about girls and that we were very often among us. But among us the atmosphere was very loose, we were not four gruff types but four funny guys who have fun acting like crazy and saying bullshit.
With others, or if others there were, we never did so, but between us yes. From time to time we ended up (always between us) talking about sexually, but not about girls but only about masturbation.
We begin to attend the gym, for me a real shock, I had never been in a gym and seeing all those naked guys walking around so casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, led my heart to 120 pulses per minute, and then there were my three friends and I could see them naked, even if for obvious reasons I had to be careful not to check them too much. There were also jokes about our attributes, but jokes just to laugh.
With the passage of time, going to training had become a habitual thing for me, or almost habitual, because sometimes new guys arrived that some were really beautiful and I had to force myself not to look at them. One day when a particularly handsome new guy came, I saw one of my friends watching him and I too was surprised by my friends while I was looking at him. And there began the jokes, but also this time, very simple things, without malice, a real game.
Now, my friend Mark (false name), who had turned to look at the beautiful guy, was also the one of the three that I liked best: tall, blond, with an intelligent smile. So I started putting together the mosaic tiles: he doesn’t talk about girls, he jokes about masturbation and not about girls, and he turns to look at a beautiful naked guy . . . what does it mean? There were enough arguments to reach the conclusion: Mark is gay! It seemed to me that having seen him peek at the beautiful guy in the locker room was equivalent to a full coming coming out. And that’s how I began to lose my head for Mark. I tried to put together everything I could know about him (I had never done it before) I explored his facebook, that of his friends, I did all the possible research but there wasn’t even the shadow of a girls.
The idea that he was gay became more and more a certainty and at the same time grew in me the idea to try something with him, to tell him that I had fallen in love with him and that he had become my fixed idea. Making a speech like that, however, was not easy, indeed it was practically impossible.
In a short holiday of us four friends in the mountains, Mark and I happened (not casually) in the same room, I was anxious at the higher level but I wasn’t able to start to put in practice my projects. One day that we had to go out for an excursion we woke up late and we had a shower together, with a lot of reciprocal touchings, I was going in bad erection but he told me that we had to prepare in a hurry and with a mischievous smile, added: “We’ll talk about it tonight!” That sentence hammered my brain all day. I was telling myself that I had seen right and that it was gay and that I could not go wrong, because I see him as a gay just looking at him.
Finally the excursion ends, in the evening we go to dinner and I cannot wait for the dinner to end to be able to go to the room with Mark, but another of my friends proposes the disco and Mark enthusiastically accepts. I was uncomfortable: he evidently didn’t even remember what had happened in the morning. We go to the disco, the other two friends start dancing like crazy but not in pairs, simply in a group, but Mark remains close to me, it is the usual Mark: smart, nice, maybe gay, on the other hand how can you think that a guy is straight if he goes to the disco and doesn’t even dance with a girl?
At a certain point he looks at me in the eyes and tells me: “What is it?” Something wrong? “I say no and he replies: “Do you want us to go back to the hotel?” Of course I tell him no, but he looks at me again and tells me: “I didn’t forget!” That sentence puts my brain in motion. After twenty minutes we were back at the hotel. We go up to the room, lock the door and he throws me on the bed and start to tickle me. We played like two kids: tickling, cushions, doing the fight, obviously all for fun, then I realize that he’s excited. I throw him on the bed and start touching him and he lets me do.
Now I don’t want to go into details as it is usual in red light movies but in short we arrive to masturbate each other and I don’t think at all that this created problems for him. I would have kissed him but I didn’t take the initiative nor did he. Later we have been talking but not about sex, but about when we were children and how we spent our holidays. I was happy, it was one of the most exciting moments of my life, and yet, in the following days I realized that for him the sense of what we had done was very relative.
He never returned to the subject, but not because it had been removed, simply because it had been just a moment, and that moment had passed. We remained friends, even best friends, but two years have passed and that episode has never been repeated. Even now he doesn’t have a girlfriend nor I have a boyfriend. The courage to ask him if he was gay I didn’t have it at that time nor I would have it now, and on the other hand he doesn’t ask me questions.
Why is it so damn hard to speak clearly. If he were gay, would he try again? I think so, but he didn’t and nevertheless now I still feel attracted to him very strongly, he’s the sexiest guy I ever met, is my ideal boyfriend, but this is not enough to make it really my boyfriend. Many of my illusions are completely faded or are being fading over time, in short he is a good guy, I love him, but I don’t think he is gay, and to get to this conclusion it took me years. Today I believe and fear that our strange half-way relationship will go on and prevent us from living our lives as we would have liked.
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-gay-guys-who-see-straight-friends-as-gay-lovers
Hello Project, I am a 27-year-old guy, I don’t know why I write you, perhaps because I’m disappointed and pissed off and I need to blow off steam.
A friend told me about this gay place a few nights ago and I was very excited about the fact that it is a different place from the others, a clean and sincere place, where write guys who have little to do with the usual guys addicted to chats, dating sites or clubs, sensitive guys, with a sense of morality, who make beautiful speeches etc. etc..
He knows how I think, or better he knows how I thought a year ago about certain things and he thought to give me a kindness giving me this advice not knowing that in the meantime I changed my opinion.
So I’ll explain, I’ve never had so many problems in understanding that I was gay and to accepting it. And at 16 I had already started going out with other gay guys like me. I also had my sexual experiences, and had several gay friends with whom we went out, we talked, we had fun but among us there was also sex, but nevertheless we just stayed just friends.
At school I was fine, with my parents no problem at all, I had made my coming out with the closest friends. Then at about 20 years old, I began to have the desire to build something completely mine with a guy, to fall in love and really love someone, but it seemed very difficult and now I’ll explain why. I did not want to find a guy publicly declared as were my friends or who frequented or attended certain environments and had had many sex experiences because I thought things would never work, starting like this, and that there would be betrayals and no real interest in making the things last long. Briefly, I wanted a well-meaning and undeclared guy who didn’t hang out on gay-labeled clubs. But finding a guy like that is certainly not easy and I’ve never had this famous gay-radar that’s probably just bullshit.
I was studying physics at university and I had the idea that not a single student of physics could be gay except me. Instead I was wrong. Maurice was a year older than me and we met in the classroom by chance. We immediately bonded and became very close friends, I found myself in love with him in less than a month. He was a perfect guy for me, as I imagined him, that is very sweet, serious, thoughtful and likeable, a little shy and he was also very nice.
Luckily I knew by chance that he too was gay, I’m not going to explain how, otherwise I would do it too long, and knowing it I started to unbalance me and make him understand that I was in love with him. Maurice was resisting because he was not declared to anyone and had no experience and was ashamed of it, but in the end we got together.
I was in seventh heaven, I really loved him and I did everything to make him feel good and at ease. Regarding sex he was a bit clumsy and always afraid to make mistakes but I reassured him and gave him all the time he needed. I thought that things with him could only get better and better, after two years we were very close as a couple and with sex everything was fine now.
Then a friend of mine tells me that Maurice betrayed me, I didn’t want to believe it but there was evidence. At the beginning, Maurice has also denied and only when he was already embarrassed and he didn’t know what to invent, he said that it was true and he even started crying, he begged me to forgive him, that it was a mistake, stupidity etc.
At the beginning I also sent the toad down, I was pissed off and not so much for the betrayal as for the lies but I thought to believe him and give him confidence, but it did not last long.
However, he used to look around, to try to meet new people, in short, it was evident that our couple wasn’t really satisfying for him. When I confronted him he also accused me by saying: “Thank you very much! You have had your sexual experiences, I on the contrary didn’t have any, and to judge if one is really at ease in a situation, comparisons are needed.” We broke up. I thought: “I found the rotten apple, what a misfortune!” I still believed it.
But Maurice was not the only rotten apple at all but was just a prototype of the good guy, because later I met many other guys and even older men more or less like him. Guys who believed in love, who wanted to find a guy to love, with whom to build a future, guys who wanted sex only with the right people or out of love. Serious and good guys! And then? Always the same stories! There are those who after a while have to look around. There are those who would like to cheat but are also afraid to stay alone again and therefore they don’t cheat but only for this fear, not for you. There are those who have spent years dreaming of having a boyfriend, of falling in love with a guy who lives just for them, of living together and then in reality they do not know what to do, they are idealists,
they don’t give in to the normal compromises of a normal story with a normal guy and they prefer return to dreams rather than live reality and they easily send everything to ruin for bullshit. There are those who seem to love you in a total way after not even a week together, that seem willing to any action for you, end when you try to make them understand that there are words that mustn’t be used lightly as “I love you” and that it is difficult to love a person and it’s not something you learn in two minutes, it seems that you don’t feel anything for them and you are breaking their heart, when they, at 35, maybe are still in the stage of not being able to distinguish a crush from a falling in love.
You will say: “They all happened to you only!” I thought about it too but then talking to other gay guys I realized that in the end one should not look for those “good gay guys” but just avoid them! That in the end it is only a reverse prejudice thinking that they are the only ones with which you can build something serious, and that the guys who have a freer and more uninhibited life are the ones who are not very serious … No it doesn’t work at all like that.
I’ll tell you more, one of my longtime friends has been with a guy for eight years and they are a couple like the one I dreamed of. Yet they started as an open couple, they were all right together as people, they loved each other but sex they could do it with those they liked, in sincerity, without subterfuge and betrayal and many words of love and promises in the wind. But in the end they slowly built their relationship, they understood that they loved each other and that sex was more beautiful between them than with others. They took time, the right-thinking people could only judge them and attack them and say that it was just for convenience, that they didn’t respect each other, etc., but now they are, I repeat, a beautiful, close couple, a strong couple full of projects and enthusiasm and I with all my fads about good guys I’m alone and so disappointed that I do not really care about being in couple anymore. That’s all, Project.
P.S. if you want, you can publish this email maybe it could be useful someone who has the same beliefs that I once had. Better a cold shower now than years lost to chase the wrong people.
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-beware-of-good-gay-guys
Hello Project, I wanted to tell you that for three weeks now I feel much better and it seems to me that I can get out of the black mood. It seems incredible, but it’s happening. Project, what you did for me has never been done by anyone and it seems incredible to me that you can create similar relationships even if you don’t even know who I’m, but it happens. In the last period everything has changed for me, apparently nothing has changed but I’m the one who has changed, I feel that I have changed and I owe it to you. You know all my story and you told me that there are other guys who live and have lived similar things and then I want to tell my story to those guys because not being alone and understanding that we are not alone, for those like me, is fundamental. Project, the story is long and I took so long to write it but I think it makes sense, because in the end I’m finding my way and so I finally feel free. Project, I tell you something true: I adopted you as a father! It’s something that I missed so much and I’m discovering beautiful things! (Thanks for the good wishes, you’re the only one who has remembered it!)
THE STORY OF PAUL
My name is Paul, I was born in Milan almost 28 years ago. If I look back at my childhood and adolescence I find no time in which I can say I was I don’t say happy but not even serene. My parents never got along, from the date of their marriage and from my date of birth I deduced that I was already arriving when they got married, which would not be a problem, but I don’t look like “my father” at all, under any point of view, just as far as genetic factors are concerned, and I think I’m not even a son of the man who married my mother, but I don’t know for sure and I cannot ask for something like that.
My parents (if they really are my parents), I remember that they often screamed and made spite. They had no other children and I was the object of contention, and I had many times, even as a child, the very clear feeling that “my father” didn’t want me because he knew I was not his son. My mother literally considered me a mess and tried to entrust me to relatives and to various campsites. From the age of eight, that is, since they divorced, they put me in a boarding school for rich people. My parents are economically wealthy. But the choice to send me to boarding school was just a way to disguise the fact that their wanted to get rid of me in order to continue living their lives without me. I was just one that had nothing to do with them.
The college was in a very nice place in the [omissis] area. They came to see me once in a while, usually once every three months, once he and one she. When the teachers told me that the next day my father or my mother would come, I felt really bad and I hated them as I think I never hated anyone.
When I was a kid I did not understand these things well and felt guilty because I hated my parents while teachers told me I should love them. In practice I grew totally alone, both during the school months and during the holidays. I specify that my college was totally male and managed by priests. A hateful place where with the excuse of letting me learn the discipline I was practically relegated as in prison. You learned hypocrisy, falsehood, and even the relationships with schoolmates were just of competition and constant acting, even in private.
My schoolmates waited at least for the summer holidays, I didn’t, because I would have ended up somewhere else like a parcel post. When my mother came to my boarding school, she took me to lunch outside and thought she had done her duty. We only talked about school and she tortured me for hours because she thought it was her duty to pay me a long visit. My father at least stayed very little. Both he and she gave me expensive gifts that I systematically threw away or gave away to someone soon after they left.
Since I was 15 years old they have not given me any more presents but they have thought to give me money and many. I never took that money and they considered me an imbecile for this too. So I was in a boarding school and I didn’t have a penny in my pocket.
The school was a real torture for me. In the fifth gymnasium ( 15th grade) I was rejected which meant another year in prison, I would have gone out of college only after have turned 20! Repeating the fifth gymnasium I met a guy that I liked a lot, I didn’t even understand why.
We were in a religious college and we had a spiritual father. So I started to masturbate thinking about that guy and I felt tremendous guilt. I told the priest that I was masturbating and he didn’t take it as a tragic thing, he always made the same speech and stopped there, but I didn’t say to the priest that I felt homosexual. Once I went badly in crisis and told him that I was gay. It was a terribly wrong choice! College life has become a torture. They controlled me visually as the rotten apple. I always had a priest nearby during my free time. In a first moment I tried to repress and control myself, that is, not to masturbate anymore and even to stop thinking about that guy, but it was a real torture. I resisted even three weeks by auto-imposing not to even think about sex but then I didn’t do it anymore and I masturbated again and I said: “Enough with these absurdities! Go to the hell!”
Since then I began to tell the spiritual father only false things: that I no longer thought of the boys and that I didn’t even masturbate anymore, but I presented it step by step to make it seem credible, I was 16 and a half years old. Naturally I went to church every day, confessed false things and made communion every day. It was a sacrilegious thing, I know, religion should be a free choice, while for me it was just an instrument of torture and frankly I didn’t feel guilty, and why, then? In our college there were never any common moments with other guys in a state of freedom.
At school we did physical education but in the afternoon, there was the gym, also very nice, but there were no locker rooms, no showers. We arrived wearing sports uniform and went away wearing sports uniform. Among other things, it was generally very cold there. We each had a single room with a private bathroom and shower. So I had no chance to see the boy I was interested in if not perfectly dressed, jacket and tie of the college.
I started masturbating since the 16 and a half, but in a place like that, without the internet (considered as the devil!) And without any chance to read an uncensored book or buy a newspaper, in practice, I did everything using fantasy. I selected someone among my classmates and built on them all my fantasies. The first times, this new regime seemed acceptable and even pleasant, then I began to realize that I was throwing my best years this way. The year of the final examination, in November, I also escaped from the college, I was of age, in fact I was almost 20 years old but I didn’t have a penny in my pocket. I arrived at the station after having walked a very long way and I got on a train without paying the ticket and I locked myself in the bathroom until the arrival in Milan so that they couldn’t detect me.
In the college room I had left a letter saying that I would be back in the evening. In Milan I realized for the first time, at almost 20, that the world existed, something that was shocking for me, I was late for years. In the afternoon I newly got the train with the same technique and I came back to the boarding school. Result: they kicked me out of the college! Finally! Of course they warned my parents, who were careful not to come and see what had happened. My mother gave me some money (a telegraphic order) and I have been in a hotel since then in the town near the college.
Then my mother found me a tiny apartment there and they transferred me to the state high school. There were the girls! I had never seen one before, but I wasn’t interested in girls. But the world of the state school was completely different. The professors sometimes even talked about sex, no one forced us to go to mass, there was no spiritual father and we did physical education in a gym with locker room and showers, I couldn’t even imagine a trauma bigger than that .
You might think that in a situation like this I felt good, but it was not like that at all. I felt desperately alone, full of complexes, I had entered the locker room just once for a moment, but after I saw my naked mates I didn’t enter there anymore. They were all there joking and having fun but I just felt the heart beating at 180. The feeling of loneliness and isolation was total. I had a mini-apartment all of my own and fortunately the feeling of solitude sometimes seemed a feeling of freedom.
To prepare the exam I bought a computer and there a new world opened in front of me. Avalanches of free gay sex, but those things sickened me. A few years ago even in porn things were different, they were more vulgar, more aggressive and I didn’t like them at all. When I masturbated thinking about my schoolmates I was fine but when I tried to imagine myself in scenes like the ones I had seen on porn sites I was nauseated. In practice I saw that gay content on the net was all sex but in the most vulgar sense of the term.
I studied very little that year because I had to grow up in many other things. In the end I passed the final examination with a very low rating. But at least the school’s torture was over. I was sorry because the following year there would be no more chance to see my schoolmates naked in the locker room, what, by the way, had almost never happened, but at least there was the possibility.
I leave my apartment and I move to Milan in another apartment paid by my parents. A minimal thing. My parents lived in Milan but I would never have gone to their home, now we no longer called each other not even by phone, after my escape from the college I was considered just a blockhead and the low-grade of my diploma was the further proof of it.
I enrolled in Engineering at the Polytechnic shortly after I turned 20. So many guys and beautiful, but I was totally unable to maintain contact with them even at the minimum level, I felt embarrassed, I felt them more grown up than I was in every sense, even if my classmates had a year less than me. I had tried everything: I enrolled in the gym and then I never went there, I tried to see if it was possible to study with some of my colleagues but always went wrong, they were real geniuses, and I understood little or nothing at all.
The first year I passed a single examination with 19 [18/30 is the minimum score to pass an exam]. At least it was not 18! The second year I newly attended the same courses of the first and I passed a single exam again but with 20! I was 22 years old I was basically a failure from all points of view. Bad university results, practically between university and school, three years lost. I tried to repeat again the first year, but I could not endure it anymore.
My colleagues were three years younger than me and they understood everything, I didn’t understand anything and I didn’t study anything, I felt essentially a failure. I sent everything to ruin, I bought things to eat that went bad in the fridge, sometimes I didn’t get up from bed all day, I ate very little and lose weight dramatically. I have arrived to weigh 55 kilos, even though I am not very tall it’s anyway very few.
At the age of 23 I changed faculty and moved to Economics. The thing was more human and at the end of the year, working at terrible rhythms, I managed to do almost all the exams of the first year. At least from that point of view things started working again. I took my first degree at the age of 27! After too many years lost! I did the first year of the specialistic but of the exams that were planned I did little more than a half because I started working and I finally cut the economic cordons with my family. From this point of view, let’s say, I managed to return to the surface, but my emotional life, in practice, until recently didn’t exist at all.
Since last year I discovered Gay Project and I must say that for me it was an important thing. I read the forum every day and the guys who write there, it seems to me I almost to know them in person, a little I feel them as friends, because I don’t have gay friends. So basically until this year my sexuality was only fancy and I thought that a real contact with a guy, that is, something that gives you a strong sexual emotion I would never have tried it.
I had practically resigned myself to such a thing, resigned badly, let’s say so, because sometimes I saw some nice guys, I wanted at least to try to talk with them but I couldn’t really and I felt a sense of extreme despair. Now I work as an accountant, in practice I verify the “form 730”, “Unique” and things like that, work of low labor, but all in all I can live of my own.
At work, a 26-year-old guy arrived, rather nice, that is, I like him and he also attracts me sexually. Since I met him, it has been my only sexual fixed idea. I think all of you have gone through things like that. First you start to masturbate thinking of that guy, then it comes to your mind that you don’t know if he’s gay, well, I’ve overcome all these things, he told me he’s gay because I would never had such a courage and he also said that he likes me.
He had tried a minimum of physical contact with me but I rejected him badly, I did a kind of hysterical scene and then I ended up to cry, just an attack of despair, he was in a tremendous embarrassment and I was sorry very much because in the end I wanted him but I rejected him so violently that he got really scared and started to keep me at a distance. I could not understand why if I wanted him, and I wanted him madly, in the end I had attacked him like that.
That’s where the Project forum happened to me and I said to myself: I try, so what do I have to lose? And I called. At first a tremendous embarrassment. From what I’ve read many guys talk about sex in a very casual way but I just couldn’t.
The first time, we talked for hours but always in a very vague, and never about sex, I thought that Project was tired but no. Then I called him back, but still without talking about sex, the third time he called me, I was not expecting it and I was very happy and even the third time we didn’t talk about sex. In fact I had been looking for Project just to talk about sex and instead a very strange relationship was created which I was not really used to. A man that could be my father was talking with me for hours, he listened to me, a very strange feeling. I asked him why he was listening to me and he told me that he was at ease and in fact I was fine too, so I found the courage and told him about me, telling him a little about the story you read up to now. I also said of the anxiety that takes me when I’m with my friend and that I thought I would never be able to have a sexual contact with him.
One thing struck me: de-dramatization. Project took it for granted that it would not be a big problem and that it would be resolved soon and well. We talked about sexuality very freely. Well it was remarkable: I had no inhibitions, something that had never happened to me before when the talk ended up on sexual issues. I never thought I could talk freely with a man of that age and instead it just happened. Then in the following days, we talked often. If I have to tell the truth I felt the affection of Project, the attention to what I said and what I am.
Why did I write all this post? Well, the reason is one, yesterday, for the first time, I managed to kiss that guy. I had never experienced anything like this, just a feeling of total mutual abandonment. The time that stops and you end up to merge with another guy, a wonderful thing, let’s tell it, because of these things I’m not ashamed anymore, the excitement was such that I came to orgasm for a kiss! When I told this to Project, he told me some beautiful things. It’s true Project, being gay is a beautiful thing and makes you forget so many bad things you’ve been through. Now I consider that guy as my boyfriend, and he thinks the same! Guys! Never let anyone throw you down! I now feel like another person!
I read so many times in the forum stories of guys coming out and thinking that coming out can be the door to happiness, well, I too thought this way years ago, when I was totally in the closet, but now I would absolutely avoid advising a boy to come out in front of his family and this for a very different reason than one could imagine. If the family does not accept you, ok, the problems are huge, but if they accept you problems can be huge all the same, because a gay boy completely out and accepted in the family ends up experiencing a family conditioning completely overlapping those to which a hetero boys are subjected, that is: everyone knows, everyone comments, everyone gives advice and tries to combine relationships in their own way and in practice the privacy and the feeling of being couple, just like two and only two people, goes to hell, because social invasion becomes increasingly heavy and unpleasant.
A year ago I met a guy, Mirco, when I was on holiday in Puglia. At the time I was totally in the closet, while he was totally out. We spent 15 days of vacation together, a little sex (protected), then, for me everything was finished, I didn’t feel in love with that guy, but he insisted and asked me to go and see him at home in Salerno, he insisted a lot and in the end I accepted but probably I didn’t realize exactly what would have happened, I thought I would be presented as a friend and that everything would end there, but he was out with his family and when you present yourself at home of a gay boy totally out and he says you’re a friend, his family automatically identifies you as the lover, or as the lover of the moment, and that’s exactly what happened to me.
I don’t deny that the first day I was really uncomfortable, I couldn’t bear the attentions of his relatives. In particular his mother and his aunts subjected me to a real police questioning and meddled with subjects that I had never shared with anyone, but all this is nothing in front of the behavior: they put us in the same room and not with two separate beds but with a double bed and his aunts began to make absurd speeches: that if I loved their nephew I should not be ashamed and so on, but I was not in love with their nephew and I did everything to make it clear and evident, but for them I was the boy of their nephew. After the 15 days I came back to my home in Milan, where nobody knew anything about me and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Then I received a postcard from Mirco that created me a lot of embarrassment, he sent me a postcard with the image of two guys kissing (at least it was not us!) But a postcard like that seemed to me quite inappropriate, especially because Mirco knew I was yet closeted. But there’s more: the postcard was signed “also” by Mirco but had not been written by him but by his aunt Carolina, and said: “Happiness exists!” Obviously I didn’t respond to the postcard for the fear that another similar postcard could came, instead I received an email from Mirco telling me that it would be in Milan for the post graduate university training and that he would take a mini-flat near the university. I don’t hide the fact that I panicked and tried to think how I could get rid of Mirco, because I expected that sooner or later he would create problems with my family.
I wrote to him that once back in the city I had reviewed my ex and we were back together, of course it was all invented but I hoped that it could serve to turn him away from the idea of coming to Milan, but he replied trying to make me have scruples of conscience, remembering the days and even more the nights spent together in Puglia. I replied in a way that seemed to me very cold and evasive and three days later his aunt Carolina called me on the phone even if I hadn’t absolutely given her my phone number, and she told me that Mirco spent the day thinking about me and crying, what seemed to me completely unlikely. I suspect that the idea of attending post graduate courses in Milan was not of Mirco but of aunt Carolina, who is very meddling; if she were my aunt . . . I save you what I would do! Nothing sexual of course!
The academic year restarts and Mirco arrives in Milan, calls me every day and I do everything to avoid him, unplug the phone for hours … however, sometimes I cannot avoid meeting him, but I do not have to spend more than a few minutes with him, because Mirco comments loudly about the guys he sees on the street and behaves as none of my friends would have ever done. I avoid with the utmost care to enter with him in a bar or in a restaurant because nothing is a problem for him and nothing holds him back, but he doesn’t realize he is disturbing the privacy of others. Three days ago aunt Carolina calls me and tells me that Mirco feels much better “now that he is in Milan” I hope that he has found a guy, but aunt Carolina tells me: “The merit is all yours! Because you knew how to take him with such sweetness!”
And here my arms fall to the ground! What did I do? The situation was getting really heavy, I told aunt Carolina that I was already with a guy and that Mirco knew it very well and she added that yes he knew but anyway he didn’t believe it.
I decide to face Mirco explicitly and I do it. He looks at me and tells me: “But I had understood very well from the first day I arrived in Milan, I know that there is no tripe for cats with you [expression commonly used in Rome to say that there are no possibilities] and then I found another guy … Quiet, everything is ok. You know, aunt Carolina is a spinster and she must always combine weddings … staying here in Milan I realized that I probably created a lot of problems because nobody knows about you, I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to get rid of this thing, maybe to find gay friends, but maybe this is out of place for you. Quiet, I’ll stay away, I understand the lesson.”
I thanked him and then he said to me: “Aunt Carolina … you will not get rid of her so easily, but don’t take her seriously if she tells you that I’m crying all day, because she said the same thing to all the guys I brought home … she is like that!”
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-openly-gays-and-their-relatives