HELL AND HEAVEN OF A GAY GUY

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!

________________
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-hell-and-heaven-of-a-gay-guy
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OPENLY GAYS AND THEIR RELATIVES

Hello Project,

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

A GAY GUY IN LOVE

Interview with Andrew (a student then twenty-two years old, enrolled in the third year of Engineering) recorded on October 26th  1985 by Project, then affectionately nicknamed “the Owl” by his friends.
 
So, my name is Andrew P., 22 years old, from a few months student in the third year of Engineering, up to now in good standing with the exams. I live with my parents in a very small town but along the railway line that goes to Rome. To get from home to University it takes exactly two hours. Leaving home at six in the morning (in the winter it’s still night) I arrive at destination shortly after eight, I stay there until six in the afternoon, and at eight in the evening I’m back home, I take a shower and go to sleep because usually I don’t stand up because of the fatigue. 
In practice I’m on the train four hours every day, I bring books and study while the train runs. But the train – if you are a commuter you know it very well – creates a routine, all the acts are repetitive. I always sit in the same place, I always have the same people and the same compartment-mates around. You can understand where I want to end up … well, about ten days ago, to be precise on October 15th , because certain dates are no longer forgotten, at the train stop seven minutes after mine, a guy, a bit unkempt and with a ruffled hair gets on the train. I’ve never seen him before. 
There is a crowd, he must remain standing. I look at him very carefully, tall, thin, light brown, with the hair cut in a helmet, dressed in clear. He is supported by a vertical support that is close to my seat, I see in detail the back of his hand and part of his forearm, he has beautiful hands, his body is absolutely regular. He is alone, without friends, has a backpack on his shoulder that seems almost empty. I look at his hand with the utmost attention, I would like to hold it, caress it, almost casually lift my eyes, meet his gaze for a moment, he does not look away and smiles at me. 
I’m sitting on the inside seat, not the one next to the window, I would love him to get closer, lean on me but even if there is a lot of crowd he doesn’t even touch me not even by mistake … after the first few minutes it happens to me an embarrassing situation, in practice I get an uncontrollable erection. He stands a few inches from me. Before the thing becomes clear I lean the folder on my knees, pull out a book and start reading, but in practice I pretend to read and observe as much as possible that guy almost as if I could spy on his most intimate secrets just looking at his right hand, take me for a maniac, but I really liked that guy, here now I prefer to fly over, but the thoughts that came to my mind, if you ever wanted a guy you can understand them very well. 
Station after station, Termini (the central train station of Rome) approaches and my erection shows no signs of diminishing. I don’t think I say something exceptional, but standing up with an erection in that situation is very embarrassing and I begin to worry … I try to think about the exams, I bite my tongue, hold my breath as much as I can … I try to put into practice the techniques I know to get back to a normal condition … but there’s nothing to do. My jacket is on the net above the seats and to get it I should get up. When we get to the station, I take courage and making a screen with the folder I get up with a maneuver a bit funny and I take the jacket … it’s already a step forward … 
We get down, the guy precedes me … I don’t overtake him, I let him to precede me for the pleasure of following him … I’m willing not to go to class so as not to leave him alone even for a minute, but he goes just to the university … then he takes Hippocrates avenue and goes on Scarpa street. You will not believe it but he was a freshman of Engineering … I said to myself: “Wow! I’ll see this guy every day!” 
He was a little confused, he didn’t know where to go … so I presented myself, with the excuse that we had seen each other on the train, I explained a lot of things of the faculty, he was listening and remembered everything I told him and then I had the opportunity to look at his face … and it was of an incredible sweetness, I don’t even know if he was beautiful, but he was sweet, smiling, very direct. We went to the bar … he was happy not to feel alone. I would have done everything not to break those moments of enchantment. Obviously the problem that had worried me on the train was back to the assault but now I had the jacket on and there was no risk. I told him I was going back home with the six o’clock train and that I was going to study at the central library. 
He asked me where I used to eat and I told him that I would eat just a sandwich with a bottle of water and he told me: “If you like, we can eat the sandwiches together”. Then I went to my class, but I kept thinking about that guy whose name I didn’t even know. We ate our sandwiches together … then I went to follow my other lessons in the afternoon and he went to study in the library, at five twenty we went back to the station and got on the train. I, for obvious reasons, didn’t take my coat off, even though the heating was on and it was terribly hot, he told me: ” But don’t you feel hot?” I replied: “A little, but I prefer to keep the jacket on … “, he looked at me with a mischievous smile and I felt a terrible embarrassment … probably he had noticed all the maneuver in the morning. 
He took his jacket off and actually had nothing to hide, I confess that I was sorry, I wanted so much him to try what I felt. Then the train left, in the evening there are very few people, there is no crowd like in the morning, we talked for almost an hour and a half, then he got down the train saying: “See you tomorrow!” I don’t tell you what I did when I got home, but, despite all, in the night I could not get to sleep, I thought of him all the time, I saw him in front of me, I heard his voice and even his smell, a kind of obsession. 
The next day I shaved with the utmost care and I put on the most beautiful shirt I have and, of course, the longest jacket … I get on the train and I feel excited at the thought of seeing him but at the train stop he is non there, I feel frozen … Why? We did not exchange phone numbers and I have no means to contact him and I only know his name: Mark. I feel badly depressed … but he is not there and I cannot do anything. Things went on like this for another eight days, I was very bad the first two or three days, but then I started to get used to the idea that Mark was not there anymore … but yesterday, Saturday, he was there again. 
I must have received him with great enthusiasm and he gave me a beautiful smile. He had only had chickenpox! The story of Andrew and Mark (our story) today is at this point. On the first day of Mark’s disappearance, I had talked about it with the Owl and he had told me: “He will come back, certainly will come back! Don’t worry!” and we had bet that if he came back I would have recorded the story … The story? You will say, but it is a banality … perhaps, I say, … but I hope so much that you are wrong!
___________
If you like, you can join the discussion on this post on Gay Project Forum:  http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-a-gay-guy-in-love

FEELING GAY AND REBORN

December 9th 2015 the day of my rebirth. And here I am, in spite of my shyness, to share my life with you all. 
Let’s start from the beginning, my childhood. Well, my childhood. What to say, a period totally “black”, a father with vices, who beats your mother and you look, 5/6 years old, and you are helpless, the worst thing is to look and not be able to do anything, and, despite all, my mother has always had a smile printed not to make me worry, to make me grow without hating my father or anyway to protect me in some way from everything that happened. 
But let’s leave this argument, now it’s an old story, even if sometimes when I least expect it, I think back to those images. At that time the only person with whom I could feel good, playing, was my cousin V., he was two years older than me, a brother in short, with whom I could play and not think about those moments. After that period has ended, one has started even worse. 
At 11 years during the period of secondary school, I had taken a lot of kilograms, because many times I used to take refuge in food when I was down. I have been a victim of bullying for 3 years, when I came home I had a sore body, they enjoyed pinching me where I had the “rolls”, but the strongest pain was due to the nicknames that bothered me. Even now while I’m writing, if I think back to those moments, I feel a great sense of suffering. I’ve always been one that keeps everything inside, never showing outside my emotions, and I didn’t talk to anyone about those things. 
The only one who had noticed my behavior was V., I felt better when he was talking to me, but then, one day, when I reached the peak of sadness, and I needed him, he gave me the coup de grace. We were in his room, I state that I had not seen any kind of pornographic magazine/site, and even less I knew what masturbation was. He tells me “Undress, I want to give you a massage”, I didn’t see it as a strange thing because he used to massage me when I was stressed, but that day was different. While I was lying down, he slipped my panties off and abused me. 
I know it may seem stupid to talk about abuse in this case, because you could tell me “Ok, you were there, you liked it maybe, so what do you want?”, But at that time I needed a person to help me because I was mentally fragile, and at that moment I felt nothing, I felt useless, lost. Since that day I have no more been in contact with him and I have started to close more and more in myself. 
And here we are at the beginning of high school, same story, shyness and closure due to my outward appearance, I could only relate to someone if someone spoke to me, otherwise I stood in the corner, in silence as if I were a shadow. I began to feel good when I saw people approaching and chatting with me, but after a few months I realized that they were guys/girls who approached me only to get help in some subject, because I was a nerd, then after getting a good grade in that subject they didn’t consider me anymore. 
Good. Finally a positive period arrives in my life, so if you have suffered with me while you were reading the first part, I hope you can breathe a sigh of relief. In the third year of high school my class has been dismembered, and I ended up in another classroom. New classroom, new companions, new isolation. Within the classroom, most of them had a schoolmate, before the desks were all occupied, I threw myself on the first empty desk I found. And N. comes to sit next to me, short red hair, fair complexion, smiling. He sits next to me and immediately introduces himself, and starts talking to me as if we’ve known each other for years. 
At the beginning I started eggshells, I said to myself “But he will be the umpteenth guy who tries to cheat me with a little smile to use me in some way”, as V. and the others did. In the days to follow, however, I saw that he behaved like that with everyone, he was sincere, outgoing, he gave me attention and in the evening forced me to go out with him and his friends (since I had never left home until the age of 16). 
I believed in him when during the fourth year trip to Budapest, we had to go with the whole classroom to a spa. The world collapsed on me, I had to undress in front of the whole class? I rather shoot myself. He squeezes me that day, looks at me and says: “Listen, now you prepare and come, do you think you are obese? That is, you weight 100 kg, is this for you to be obese? You are going to see people who are in the spa that weight about 200, I want to see what you think then. And, listen, if you don’t go there, I don’t go either.” 
So I went there, and in the locker room he tried to act as a barrier so that other classmates could not make fun of me in any way, and he was close to me for as long as we’ve been in the spa. After that trip, the doubts began, the questions, the malaise; because when he was absent from school or I became aware that he had a girlfriend, I was jealous. A morbid jealousy, so much to be angry with him and fight, and of course I realized that I was exaggerating. I spent sleepless nights wondering, “Why do I think of him? Why am I so jealous? Why do I go to school in the morning only to see him?” And I also started to get excited when I thought of him. 
At that moment, the deepest part of me, perhaps, already understood that I was homosexual, but my mind refused to believe it, perhaps because I was thinking about the pain caused by obesity? I don’t know. But my mind went into a self-defense mechanism, let’s call it so, to find answers (excuses) to these questions. Anyway maybe I think because he was the first to consider me and therefore I considered him like a brother, and somehow like a part of me, our story went on. 
The diploma arrives, for me the terror. Why? Because I knew I would never see him every day, how would I have done? Luckily in the following months he had enrolled in the gym, and he invited me to register with him, so I could see him 3/4 times a week. Everything lasted until he found a girlfriend, after he got engaged our relationship was waning, and I’ve been sick for months, because I knew I couldn’t see him anymore, by the way the year after he left for the military service. So I slipped into a huge emptiness, yet another hope destroyed. 
There were two girls, my classmates, and one of them had a crush on me, which I realized after quite a while since I didn’t pay attention to her ways to tell me “Look, I like you!” At that moment I thought it was time to get engaged, after all I was 19, my best friend was engaged, so I took the opportunity on the fly to organize a couple of occasions to be with her. 
In this period, further doubts and uncertainties have arisen, because I noticed that when I kissed my girlfriend I didn’t get excited, I didn’t think about sex, I didn’t feel anything. As for sex, fortunately she didn’t want to do it because she was a virgin, otherwise I don’t know how I would have done it. After 8 months we broke up because she told me that she didn’t see a bit of love towards her, but only affection. I felt sick, because, as those bullies had played with my feelings, at that moment I seemed to have played with the feelings of a friend of mine, having deluded her. 
The University begins, new environment, new companions, on the one hand happiness, on the other, the umpteenth fear due to my appearance. Same behavior as in the high school, as if I hadn’t matured in those years. As usual, aloof from people who had already created small groups. After a few minutes M. sits next to me, an extrovert guy, solar, brown and with a little belly (eh eh!). In short, we begin to talk and somehow I see N. in him, but M. seemed even better. 
We were so close together that that we saw each other in the morning, the afternoon we studied together or at my home or at his, we went out in the evening. Even with him fraternal relationship, I managed to talk more, to trust in myself, and he also talked to me about his intimate problems, many times he asked me for advice and told me that I was a good listener. 
We created a small group, and we spent our evenings in bars, discos, between alcohol and entertainment. In “their” case, even girls, because they went to the disco with the intention of courting girls, I instead just to change, prisoner of my shyness, I was just trying to have fun. 
Last summer, summer 2014 (I will never forget it!), my parents go on vacation for a week and I send a message on the whatsapp group that we had in common: “Guys I have free house, if you want to come here to sleep, we organize some alcoholic evening or we give ourselves to meat cooked on the barbecue and wine, in short, use my home as a hotel!” M. took me seriously, got his suitcase and moved to me for a week. Woe to me that I sent that message! 
That week was overwhelming, we were walking around the house in our underwear, going out of the shower and staying naked for a half hour, we slept together and when we were in bed sexual talks were usual. I had to go continuously to the bathroom to lessen my excitement. 
After two days I confessed to him that I was happy that he had come, because I never had brothers and with him I could talk about everything and I was fine. After those words he hugged me, and in the following five days when I least expected it, while watching TV, while I was on the couch, he came and hugged me. When the seven days ended and he went away, I felt like crying. Take me for crazy, but for two weeks I couldn’t set foot in the room where we slept, I thought of him, it was something stronger than me. 
Perhaps at that moment the hidden part of me was about to come out. But a few days later, in addition to having engaged with a girl, he shoots a very ugly sentence. He has always been a bit racist, but I have never seen anything in his attitudes that was against gays. Sorry if I write to you this sentence, if you want, you cannot even read it, because in my opinion it is really very aggressive, and at that time I considered myself hetero, you can figure out how I can take it now. 
He said, I don’t remember exactly in what context “But … the fags? All sick people, they should get treatment, because it’s a disease … if it were up to me I would reopen the ovens of Auschwitz, just to burn them all.” So, you know, when you put someone on a pedestal and then it collapses? Here it is. 
In February, this year, out of curiosity I get on the scales and see “130 Kg”, I said to myself: “Well … there are people I saw on TV who weig 140/150/160, and cry, despair because now that they have understood the gravity of the situation they can no longer make a movement and everything is much more difficult. Why do I have to wait for that moment too? It’s very easy to get 20 kg. Why do I have to be sick? I have to lift my ass and get busy.” 
I start the gym. Well, what about … I noticed that in the locker room I had pleasure in seeing guys undress and take a shower. And I always tried to look at the guys in question in full, maybe if I was about the last exercise and there was a guy I liked, I calculated the time it would take for him to go undress and get into the shower, so I could see it. Just to masturbate then thinking about the guys seen that day. 
Obviously the time came for the “Why I do it?” And here again the twisted mind, with the self-defense system told me: “Anyway I definitely enjoy looking at the naked guys, because I’m obese and I like to see lean or athletic bodies.” I think after reading these things, you smiled or said: “What problems does your brain have? Seriously!” Unfortunately it was so, I gave myself these stupid answers. 
In November I reached 85 kg, obviously I was very happy, also because relatives or people around notice your change and your willpower and congratulate. Then, finally, I had destroyed the barrier that had prevented me from dealing with people for years. Everything seemed perfect. But instead … But no. Mid-November, new feelings of emptiness, as if something were missing, and I saw that I continued to be attracted by guys. Has it become a habit? 
I made the decision to go to a psychologist, I told him a little bit about my life. I noticed that at every session he always asked me the same question “Are you okay with your sexuality?” And I, like a stupid: “Yes yes, I’m fine.” After that question strangely he changed the subject. After 5/6 sessions he told me “I don’t see anything unusual in you, because we talked for a long time, and you are convinced that everything is okay, I cannot do anything else.” 
Now don’t ask me why and how, but 8 days ago, December 9th, I’m assailed by the umpteenth doubts and thoughts. I type on google “Test to understand if you are gay”, and I come across Gay Project test (thankfully). I conclude the test and I have a positive result. I thought “Ok, it’s just a test”, and I started out of pure curiosity to read stories of guys who understood they were gay, right here on the forum. At one point while I was reading, I take my head off the pc, I look out the window and in a loud voice I say, “I’m gay!” At that time I needed a writing that would come out of the computer maybe capitalized “Oh finally, and what the hell, and it took all this time?” 
Overwhelmed by the thing, I turned the computer off and went to bed. At that moment I thought back to my whole life, from childhood. That’s why I was sick without N., I was in love with him. That’s why I felt nothing for my girlfriend, not because she was like a sister to me, but because I didn’t feel love for girls, but just deep affection. That’s why I was fine with M., and I even felt like crying, and collapsed when he made that statement. That’s why at the gym I was excited looking at the guys. The day after I felt reborn! 
December 9th 2015 is perhaps a date I will not easily forget. On the one hand very happy, on the other a little less. Because at first I said to myself: “But what the heck, after finally managing to throw down the wall of obesity, now I have to face this other situation!” I know that this will be a difficult path full of obstacles, but ok, I accept it. It took me 9/10 years to fight obesity. Ok, it will take as many for this thing!” 
But who knows …, as long as I’m quiet with myself, I’ve discovered my real self, I’m reborn and I’m optimistic. Now I just want to create friendships, because unfortunately in my city people are strongly homophobic, they don’t reach the level of M., but still don’t joke. So doing a C.O. it would be destructive, at least for the moment. I hope to create many friendships here, and to find out more about this new “world”, because I’m totally unaware of some terminologies or sexual behaviors among gays. 
I THANK YOU for the time you have spent reading my story, because that a person who doesn’t know me should devote me 5/10/15 minutes of his time, it is already a gift. So I thank you for your time. I hope my story can give some confidence to all who are bullied, who are suffering, and who have suffered. I only tell you not to give up, to force you. Cannot you do it alone? I am at your disposal, from today on I will be in chat or here on the forum. Excuse me for any grammatical errors, it is 3.40 in the morning and I sincerely don’t want to read all the papyrus I wrote, in case I will do some changes. I hope I have written things in an orderly manner, because sometimes I tend to go from one thing to another. Thanks again and have a nice day!
Greetings from your Little Wolf! 
_________
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FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE GAY GUY WHO DELIVERS PIZZAS

Hello Project,

I read several emails you published in the forum and some have been really enlightening for me and have helped me not to feel like a rare animal. I realize that the situations I am experiencing, even if they have nothing standard, are much less rare than I believed.

I am 35 years old, I have dedicated my life especially to study and work, because I inherited from my parents the idea that a minimum of economic security is essential to build one’s life. I have a pretty good relationship with my parents, with them I have never spoken explicitly about my being gay, but if they are not stupid they should have understood it for themselves, because they have never seen me with a girl, I have no friendships with girls, I never go to the disco, etc. etc.. I think that my father, in particular, has understood, because he never told me to find a girl, on the contrary, my mother still tells me it from time to time. So, all in all, the situation at home never created problems for me. On the other hand I have never brought home guys, I had my experiences, for the truth minimal, but I never had a guy or as people say today a boyfriend, an expression that I cannot stand at all, but the thing is a bit complex and I think you’ll understand it better by reading this mail.

I’m not a good looking guy, I’m a guy we can say normal, but my flaws are many, I’m not thin or tall, I’m not athletic, I don’t have blue eyes or blond hair, indeed, to tell the truth, when I look in the mirror I don’t consider myself attractive at all. I can also say that I have never really been looking for a guy because I think that seeking doesn’t make any sense, it is not like hunting, I can simply say that I have paid attention to any possibilities but such possibilities never arrived (here too I say it with reserve), and I can say that I never really worried about it.

The story I am about to tell you seems like a novel but it is not at all, it is the simple account of what happened. One evening, I came home late from work, I hadn’t done the shopping and I had the fridge empty, I called a pizzeria that deliveries at home and I ordered a pizza.

After half an hour a guy arrived to deliver it. When I opened the door I was struck by lightning. I found myself in front of a beautiful guy, just a bit shabby, probably because very tired. I felt embarrassed, I gave him 20 euros, he was going to give me the change, but I waved indicating that I didn’t want any change, he smiled and went away. That apparition had been very short but it had upset me, I wanted to know something more about that guy but it was clear that I had no means to do it. The next day I ordered another pizza at about the same time, it was the least I could do, but a middle-aged man came to deliver it, I cannot deny that I was disappointed, but I didn’t give up, the next day I ordered another pizza but also this time the beautiful guy was absent, exactly a week after our first meeting, I remember well that it was Wednesday, I ordered a pizza again and the guy reappeared in all his glory, also this time very tired but always beautiful.

Also the scene of the tip was quite the same, but this time he told me that the tip was not needed, I told him I had always done so and he replied “Mh … ok.” I asked him in what days he was in charge of making deliveries and he answered me on Wednesday and sometimes on Saturday, then he left. Obviously my question made a spark lighten in his head and maybe I was a bit naive and exposed myself too much. However since then I ordered pizzas only on Wednesdays and Saturdays. On Wednesdays he was always there, on Saturdays more or less twice out of three times. One Saturday night he came, delivered the pizza and then, because out it was raining cats and dogs, he asked me if he could wait at home till the next order. The request seemed to me unusual, but was welcomed by me with enthusiasm. I brought him a fruit juice, we talked a bit of his work, then he told me that he was a university student and was about to graduate discussing a thesis on a very difficult subject of which I didn’t understand anything at all.

He was almost 30 years old even if he seemed much younger, so he was late with his studies, but had a job and maintained himself. The conversation didn’t last long because the call for the next order arrived. Over the course of the week, the guy, who was called Paul, began to spend the waiting time between one call and the other at my home, and so, perhaps in dribs and drabs, our conversation went on. One evening he told me something completely unexpected: “Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked him the reason for that question and he told me: “From your books and from all the way you do it’s evident that you are gay and that you don’t have a boyfriend”, but he hurried to tell me that instead he had a boyfriend, as if he were telling me not to put in my head strange ideas. I opened my arms and said, “Ok, I’m glad, but for me it does not change anything!” Well, actually it was not exactly like that even if in fact our strange relationship had not changed at all, sometimes he came to my house carrying his laptop, which was really monstrous, then began to bring home books and leave them at my house, sometimes the intervals between an order and the next lasted over an hour and he started to work on his thesis, One evening I asked him if he had eaten and he said no, so I prepared a very quick dinner and we had dinner together.

Unfortunately, the times of our relationship were very slow because we could meet only two days a week, on Wednesdays and Saturdays, but even with such relaxed times we got to know each other better. He was a really remarkable guy, I respected him a lot, he told me his story, he told about his current boyfriend and those he had had before, I listened to him and I didn’t know what to say, I realized that he had a very rich and complex emotional life, much richer than mine. He always kept himself at a certain distance from me, didn’t give me too much confidence, we used to speak very seriously but he tended to point out that he had his life. Slowly I adapted to the idea of being just the friend of Wednesday and Saturday night, something that, if in some ways was not exciting, but on the other hand defined precise boundaries and didn’t feed false expectations.

One evening he told me that the date of the discussion of his degree thesis had been fixed and that he would like me to go to assist but, he added, “I don’t know you … because there’s also my boyfriend and other people and I don’t like questions or chatting” I told him I would pretend not to know him. The day of the discussion I came there three hours early, he was in the waiting room together with other undergraduates, I saw from a distance his boyfriend who leaved place for the other friends, standing anyway close to him, of course I didn’t introduce myself and kept me at a distance. There was more or less a discussion every hour, about 45 minutes of discussion and then 10 minutes for the commission behind closed doors and then the proclamation arrived. Paul was calm, he wasn’t dressed like a manager like everyone else, he was dressed like every day, he hadn’t cut his hair for the occasion and had the usual tired air. His turn arrived. The relator exposed a short presentation of the thesis and then he let Paul speak. The subject was completely unknown to me but I saw the professors of the commission listening very carefully.

At the end of the exposition, one of the professors proposed a very particular subject, he was somehow insinuating that Paul hadn’t took that subject into account, but Paul answered as a true scientist, he began with a “You pose a fundamental question to which I have long sought an answer” then he started a projection related to a very recent experiment and developed his own theory in this regard. In the end, the professor who had proposed the question concluded: “Very interesting, I would like to deepen the subject with you, because what you say is original but also very concrete.” After other brief, more formal speeches, Paul was sent back to the waiting room and the commission retired in the council chamber. Five minutes later Paul received his degree with honors. He was happy but not excited, he passed near me but didn’t say hello, his friends hug him and then they all went away together. Paul’s work life didn’t change at all, he continued to make deliveries on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

The following Wednesday, when I saw him at my house, I made him find a small cake and a dinner ready, he just said thank you, but he seemed happy. He continued to stay at my house in the pause times and slowly our relationship consolidated. Months went by, the relationship with his boyfriend went into crisis, he found another guy, then he told me about. He was madly in love with his new boyfriend, but that guy, after an initial enthusiasm, no longer wanted to know about him. Paul entered into deep crisis, he was very neurotic and aggressive even with me, but never in a bad way. We often quarreled, but we reconciled a little later, he told me that he loved me but underlining as always that he had a boyfriend even if “not very stable”. Two years after our first meeting, it also happened that he stayed to sleep at my house or that he stayed at home to study for his Doctorate when I was at work, then he asked me if he could stay for a few months, in this way he would avoid paying a rent that could be useful only for a short time. So he came to stay at my house. I was fine with him.

No sex, but I felt just like in my family and I realized that he was fine too, three months later he received the news that he had to leave for his Doctorate in Germany. He was used to speaks English perfectly but not German. We started studying German together, we attended a German school together three times a week. We learned everything you can learn of German language in 70 days by studying an average of six hours a day. Then he left and I was alone again, but I was in chat with him every night, he insisted that on skype we had to speak German only, the thing went on for a few months, then he started letting some of his German friends into the conversations and slowly we got quite skilled using German. Here in Italy, at work, there are also Swiss and German customers who tell me that I speak German very well. In short, when the Doctorate ended in Germany, Paul made me an unexpected proposal and he did it in German: “Warum kommst du nicht hier her? Ich denke, wir könnten eine tolle Zeit haben. Kurz gesagt, ich würde es mögen.” (Why do not you come here? I think we could have a great time. In short, I would like it.) It took a little while for me to find a job there, but I didn’t have big problems and about four months later I went to live in Hamburg with Paul. It seems that now he’s no longer looking for a guy, he always repeats that he is not my boyfriend but in practice this only means that we don’t go to bed together, because when he is not at the DASY (Deutsches Elektronen-Synchrotron) he stays at home with me, almost always at the computer to study.

Here, Project, the story ends, what will happen in the future nobody knows but I can tell you that I don’t feel any frustration, between me and Paul there is a very strong emotional relationship. Could it all end? Well, I think that sooner or later he might find a boyfriend, but I don’t think that everything could finish between us. I don’t know if it’s a gay love story, of course it’s a strange story but it’s my story.

___________

If you want, you can participate in the discussion of this post open on the Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-falling-in-love-with-the-gay-guy-who-delivers-pizzas

GAY ENGINEERING

I’m 27, many years, in theory too many if I had to start thinking about happiness now. What have I done up to now? I tried to lay the foundations … now I can finally think about putting the roof over it. I got out of high school at age 19, I took the first degree at 22, there I lost one year, I told my parents that I had lost the year because an exam had gone wrong but in reality the reason was very different and you will understand soon how things went. Now I’m an Engineer in a big waste disposal plant. I started working last year just before Christmas.

I try to ask myself the questions you would ask me. How does the emotional life go? I reply that, all in all, during all these years, even if sex was a very rare reality, I had my gratifications. At the beginning of the university I had in mind that my goal was only to graduate as soon as possible. I never haunted locals, I don’t like spending the night out. My fixed idea was to shorten the times. I didn’t have the problem of coming out, I simply didn’t do it with my family or with my friends, with one exception, but you’ll understand in a bit. It was not an ideological choice, only a postponement of my emotional life after graduation and after finding a job. In fact at the beginning I was living strictly monastic, university and study and that was all.

Nevertheless my emotional life has found a sense and a turning point right at the university, when I least expected it, because I was going to university just to study, the idea of chasing guys seemed nothing more than a way of wasting time and delaying even further the solution of my problems. There were so many guys I liked but I deliberately put the topic aside. I liked in another way only one guy, his name is Camillo, a name that seemed strange but that now seems to me the most beautiful in the world. I looked at Camillo but nothing more. We greeted each other when we were in class, in the morning I took the place for him and he took it for me, but these things also happened with other guys.

One day the professor didn’t come and we chatted a bit. I kept myself at a distance and I was just talking about the university, at one point he asked me when I would give analysis, I told him in June and he told me: “Would you like to try to study together?” I immediately said yes, then I regretted it because I thought he would have made me waste time, I wanted to say that I had changed my mind but a little I didn’t have the face to do it and a little Camillo was just my type of a handsome guy. So we started studying together. Sometimes I wanted to take a break and have a chat and maybe he wanted it too but then we did without it and we continued to study. Studying with Camillo was productive and at the same time pleasant.

Practically for months we have only studied together, at the time of the exams we went together to get them and we took the same vote but there was no celebration, after the exam we immediately returned to study for the next one. However, even if we never talked, we were all right with each other. In practice there was only talk about how to schedule the deadlines for the examinations of how to condense the maximum study effort, but it was fine, it was damn fine. We used to see each other once in his house and once in my house.

His parents were a little nosy and wanted to know a lot about me, especially if I had a girlfriend. I played my part pretending to have a girl as if I was straight inventing everything in front of his parents and I acted so well that they believed me. When he took me back to my house, I asked him: “Do you have a girlfriend?” He shocked me saying while he laughed: ”Oh yes! Just like you! Today you have done well to say what you said to my parents because if they get too involved it is a problem.” I replied: “I think you’re right!” This was our mutual coming out, it didn’t last more than 20 seconds.

I wanted to talk a bit but he stopped me: “Now we know why we’re fine together, but together we have so many things to do and we don’t have to take missteps. The engineers first make the foundations and then build on them. We continued to work together like crazy. Then at the third year, at the time of the first level graduation he got sick. No one understood what it was, he always had a little fever, they admitted him for a while to the hospital.

He didn’t seem in bad condition, I used to go to see him to the hospital and I went out of the ward with him to walk in the garden. I went there every day, then he told me he didn’t want me to go so often, he said that if I wanted to make him happy I had to study and then I started going to the hospital no more than once a week. He has had a pneumonia in light form that took a long time, it has not had major consequences but he has been in hospital almost two months. The result of all this was that he failed to do the thesis and to deliver it on time and so he lost a year, I instead took the first degree.

If I have to tell the truth the day I graduated I felt terribly uncomfortable because even if Camillo came to see me, he couldn’t graduate and then I did something that he still scolds me, I stopped studying for a year to wait for him and to start studying together again. And it took a whole year because when he was ill he had practically not studied at all. I would have liked to help him with the exams of the last year but he didn’t want to. This fact put me in trouble but Camillo used to spend the evening with me practically every day and we used to go out for a walk together.

We resumed working together after he graduated. We took the second degree the same day and then I felt realized. Now he works in engineering department of the region and deals with large air-conditioning systems and I take care of the recycling of waste. We decided to take the big step, that is to go to live together but in separate houses … or almost. I try to explain …

Next Monday we have a meeting with the builder to buy an apartment, or rather two apartments, they are two apartments of two rooms each one neighboring one another. The builder will leave them communicating. Two houses and not a big one because now we are fine together but in case of necessity everyone would have his own. Honestly it’s only a theoretical possibility. It will seem absurd, but we have placed two shelves on the open partition so that you cannot see that the two apartments are actually connected. A carpenter will give us two false bottomless cabinets, one different from the other, two and ten meters high so nobody will see that the two apartments are actually a single apartment. It’s not really necessary, let’s say it’s a bit of a strangeness, but we don’t want to let anybody know about us. Yesterday morning his parents and mine came at the same time to see the apartments, they noticed that they were one next to the other but the thing stopped there.

Thanks for reading everything! Good luck!

__________

If you want, you can participate in the discussion of this post open on the Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-gay-engineering

RISKS OF COMIG OUT WITH PARENTS

Dear Project,
I don’t know if you remember me, a few years have passed, but I still remember the strange effect that made me talk to you, because I realized that I didn’t know gay reality at all and that I had an infinite series of fears, practically almost all nonsense, and I didn’t realize what could be the real problems of being with a guy, then I was 25 (good times!), now I’m 31 and I must say that things have changed a lot. I don’t know if you remember, Project, but a few months after our first conversations, I sent you a picture with a dedication on msn, a picture that represented me and the one whom I was hoping, even with a thousand uncertainties, was my boyfriend. Well … we’ve been together for 5 years now, and we live together. Now I’m not a boy anymore but I see my dream come true, Project, I feel loved. Do you remember the night you were talking to me on the chat? When bad thoughts passed through my mind? You told me that my life could have made another guy’s happiness and it seemed impossible to me, but that’s exactly what happened.

I met Luke in a chat, not in an erotic chat, but in a chat where they talked about architecture. There was talk not only of architecture but also about how a young architect can look for and even find work. At that time I was not working yet, neither was he. In his answers I saw the tendency to leave space, to make me talk, he was never impositive or aggressive, but was conversational without falling in the banal. We continued to talk in that chat for several days, then we discovered that we lived in the same city and we decided to meet up to try to plan together the search for a job. When I saw him I was electrocuted, he was a beautiful guy. We spent the whole day together and it was just fine! We only talked about job opportunities and we decided to give ourselves to do as much as possible to look for work together because economic independence was our first desire. I didn’t know anything about him then.

He has come to my house many times, he met my parents and I met his, obviously we were just two friends looking for a job together but the atmosphere was very positive. At his house, in his room there were many photos of a girl and it was like a stab to me: Luke was beautiful but obviously he was straight! My mood collapsed from one minute to the next. He noticed it and immediately told me: “It’s my brother’s girlfriend!” And in saying so he smiled at me. I thought that his smile was his way to come out with me and I also answered him with a smile and a breath of relief. When we said goodbye, beyond the usual handshake there was also a hug that I didn’t expect and it was not a formality. Since then our relationship took a different way.

You know, Project, you always say that the real problem is knowing if the other is gay, but if he is, the problem remains to understand how he thinks, what he thinks, how he sees the situation, and it takes time to understand it. Note, Project, that we never declared ourselves explicitly and that starting a speech beyond work was really difficult. Then one evening, after going to get a pizza, we stopped to talk in the car. He asked me: “Do you think it would work?” I had no doubts about the interpretation of that phrase and I replied: “We have to do everything to make it work …” He told me: “All right! Then I start.” He told me about himself without reserve and told me that he felt happy next to me and that he thought of me a thousand times a day. I took his hand and kissed it. It started like this. I skip the details you can imagine. I was really good, sexual transport was very strong. His way of experiencing sex was practically identical to mine: enthusiasm, but also prudence: doing the test, absolute mutual loyalty and lots of cuddles. I always wanted to be with him, when the time came to part from him I felt really halved. When I saw him smile, in his eyes I saw heaven. He had beautiful, warm hands and when he was holding mine he inspired me so much trust. And then he was not neurotic like me, he was quiet and close to him I began to overcome all my neuroses.

But there was a huge problem: we could go and make love in my parents’ country cottage, especially in winter, because no one ever went there, it was cold, but we knew how to warm up: a double duvet and we didn’t need anything else, it was fine but we often wondered what our parents would say if they understood how things really were. In practice we did everything in secret. For all the rest, we met each other, either, at his house or at mime, but we had to be careful to talk only about work. Another underlying fear was related to the fact that one of us could find work in another city, because such a thing would have been shocking. We were looking for work hoping not to find it. And we even arrived to present ourselves together for job interviews, saying that we were very close and used to working together, even if it is not easy for two architects to be hired to work together.

After about six months of “cohabitation” we got a job offer for a six-month contract in Kazakhstan, which seemed very strange, but the proposal came from an important multinational for which we had already held job interviews, we thought about it a little and then we accepted. Our families were very worried, but the fact of going there together led us to accept. After two days we were on the plane. The work was in Astana, a very special city, without western-style buildings, but with huge neighborhoods made of small houses with small gardens, very well kept, even if the city is almost in the middle of the desert. We have been housed in a villa, with three bedrooms and a bathroom, with a delightful little garden. People were also a pleasant discovery for us, but our dialogue with the locals could only take place in English, and on the other hand any contact with our superiors (Canadians) was only in English. In Astana we were really good and our relationship become deeper. We have worked together and a lot but we got also great satisfaction.

After the six months in Astana, they told us that we would spend another six months in Vancouver to oversee the construction of a port building, of course we accepted. The city is incredibly multiethnic and between the mountains and the ocean it is spectacular, we have happened there in summer, a very mild summer, similar to the springs of southern Europe. We had an apartment with a wonderful view. In Vancouver, however, we experienced that our English was very rudimentary and we tried to improve it with a group of local friends, including a gay couple, but of gays over 60, something that is rare to see in Europe. In Canada, the work didn’t have the relaxed rhythms it had in Astana, and several times we had to work even at night to keep up with the demands of the construction sites. We have worked, we have gained well but the nostalgia of Italy was very strong. By the way, work had distracted us from our basic problem: “what to say to our parents and how to say it”. For our parents we were in effect only two work colleagues.

A month before departure from Vancouver our superiors let us know that they would send us back to Italy to Milan, which is far from our home, but it is still in Italy. The second of September we arrived in Milan, also this time they placed us in the same apartment, which however was not even the shadow of the one in Vancouver and had not the eastern grace of that of Astana. Once settled, we decided it was time to speak clearly with our families. We didn’t know what to expect or even if it was the case to speak first with my parents and then with his, or to create an opportunity to make a single speech that would be good for everyone, but we were determined.

We set a lunch at my house for September 6th. The day arrives, we do the usual compliments, then Luke immediately enters the topic: “Listen to me a little … so we got to know each other better by working together for a year and we understood that we want to spend our life together, because we love each other and it seemed right to let you know.” In our opinion, the most was done, but the reaction to the words of Luke was disconcerting. My father pretended not to have understood, just like that, Project, while he had understood very well, he made a perplexed face, followed by a strange smile. Luke preferred to immediately eliminate any possibility of misunderstanding: “We are gay … and we love each other.” His father and mother did not say anything, they were almost paralyzed and did not know what to say. It was evident that a completely unexpected atomic bomb had fallen on them. My mother tried to lighten the situation but in the wrong way: “Now it can be a difficult moment but then things can get settled …” Luke immediately stopped her: “There’s nothing to settle …”. The most radical silence fell, interrupted only by banalities, like “Now let’s think about eating … we’ll think about other problems later, a solution will be found …” Luke also tried to avoid misunderstandings: “Solution?” My father started the wrong way again: “These are things that can happen, maybe these are moments of fatigue …” Luke looked at me in a very questioning way and said to me: “What do we do?” I answered with one word: “Let’s go!” We got up from the table and left without saying goodbye, and on the other hand our parents didn’t even try to hold us back.

The feeling of bitterness was very unpleasant, we both realized that the relationship with our families was over. Fortunately we were economically independent and we were working permanently in Milan, so the relations with our parents were in fact already very reduced. We immediately returned to Milan, our parents did not even make a phone call for a whole week, then my mother called me to ask: “How are you?” I noticed immediately that that “you” was referred just to me, she had only asked how I was and had not asked anything about Luke like she was used to do before, because by now Luke was like the devil who had taken his son away from her. I answered her. “We’re fine! (underlining the “we”) And how are you?” The embarrassment was evident, after a few minutes of banality the call was over. In the evening Luke’s mother called him and the script was virtually identical. We were not shocked by this thing, after all “maybe” we expected it. Up to this point our story may seem like the story of a double family failure. Two gay guys who would have all the credentials to feel fulfilled, are on the contrary frozen by relationships with their homophobic families that end up radically disappointing their expectations, but in reality things have gone differently. My father sent me the e-mail that I transcribe here below:

“Hello, your mother and I realized that we behaved very badly with you (Leo and Luke) and this makes us deeply uncomfortable. Luke’s parents share this unease with us, we talked about it together several times and we realized that we had everything wrong. We cannot be without our guys, we are living days of bitterness, but I can swear that we understand that we have to change our attitude altogether. We were not in the least prepared to face a similar situation. If you and Luke agree, we could maybe come to Milan for a weekend, so we can stay a little together. And then, what can we do to get a little clearer ideas? Because we tried to search for news on the internet, but orienting ourselves is very difficult. We await your response by mail and we hope so much that it is positive.”

I read the email to Luke and we agreed the answer.

“Hello, I spoke with Luke and if you agree we can meet not the next Sunday, because we have work commitments, but the following Saturday and Sunday. To get a little clearer ideas you can read the Gay Project Forum, it is very easy to find it on Google and you could also talk with Project, with whom I had spoken several times, he is a very good person and knows the gay world from the inside. As for our relationships, well, we are very happy with your email. Now we must try to rebuild everything without hiding anything and without pretending anything. Problems, sometimes, exist only in our imagination. Common sense is needed, it is true, but we are not naive and our choices have been made with good reasoning.
We embrace you strongly.
Leo and Luke”

The recovery of relationships with our parents on the basis of clarity, was not so easy, but on both sides there was a willingness to understand each other and, after about a year, things really became normal. By now our parents consider us as a couple and have overcome all or almost all their resistance and their complexes.

Project, I told you my story and I would like to see it on the forum because I would like to tell all the guys who see their future gray, that for a gay guy life can be beautiful and that finding a serious partner is not at all an impossible thing, even if the difficulties are certainly not lacking. I’m attaching in my skype contact, I would like to talk with you again, maybe to meet you at the beginning of the summer.
We embrace you!
Leo and Luke

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If you want, you can participate in the discussion of this post open on the Gay Project Forum: http://gayprojectforum.altervista.org/T-risks-of-comig-out-with-parents