GAY GUYS WHO SEE STRAIGHT FRIENDS AS GAY LOVERS

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

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BEWARE OF GOOD GAY GUYS!

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.

Thomas

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

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

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

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.

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