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Hi Project,

even if so many others have certainly done it, I congratulate you for the forum that is truly a very interesting collection of testimonies. So many times I begin to read and try to imagine how the story will end, but then I find myself faced with completely unexpected developments, a little how it happens in real life.

I am 35 years old, and for a gay guy to be 35 years old means to be at a turning point, you are no longer young and you are not yet old, you still have the dreams of young people in mind, but you start to face the reality of passing time. I have lived my stories, few for the truth, if I had to qualify them I would say that they were dignified, that is, I have never had bad encounters, was never deluded and then immediately after disappointed by someone. I found only honest guys who got involved seriously, at least for what they could.
At the end of each story, as a rule, it happened that we lost sight of each other, in practice the alternative was either a fixed couple of matrimonial type or each one goes his own way. This has always happened to me, except for one exception. My last boyfriend, AndreW, with whom I have been for almost 6 years in an almost cohabitation and who is now no longer my boyfriend for more than a year.
With Andrew everything was different, at first shocking. He is a neurotic guy, with a thousand problems, we often quarreled because he didn’t feel 100% understood, nevertheless he is the guy I loved the most. There was also sex between us, he was my type of guy and attracted me a lot, but our relationship vas based on different things. Andrew shared everything with me, even his worst moments of weakness. I saw him cry many times.
He had a unique dignity, he never acted with me, he always told me frankly what he thought at the cost of hurting me. I don’t know if you can imagine, Project, what it means to hear the intercom ring at three o'clock in the morning, to look Andrew and see him destroyed, see him cry of despair, overwhelmed by a sense of general failure, by his bad relationships with his parents, by his work that was always precarious, and by the sense of profound disappointment for a life of defeats.
When I saw him so I sat next to him on the couch and shook his hand and he kept crying in sobs and then I hugged him and held him to me, and slowly, very slowly, he stopped crying, resting his head on my legs, covered with a cover and heated by my embrace, then slowly he fell asleep still with wet eyes while I caressed him. I've never felt similar feelings for any other guy, I would have done anything for him. So many times I was afraid that he could make any disproportionate gesture and I was really uneasy about it, because in the worst moments the discomfort could have taken him to anything.
He never forgot about me, he never disappeared, I knew that sooner or later I would have heard him again. When he began a new story, he was more serene and he also conveyed to me a sense of greater security, when that story ended, he was once again destroyed and was deeply in crisis. I have always wondered why so many guys, who initially seemed in love with Andrew, after a month or two ended up moving away permanently. 

Sure Andrea didn’t correspond to the ideal model of boyfriend, but I never understood why Andrew's frankness, which seemed to me to be his most important virtue, was for others a sufficient reason to detach from him. Between us there was a deep affection, love in another sense. Then in some respects it didn’t work, I was not his type of guy and he had told me it so clearly, and he tried to build a couple relationship that was satisfactory for him also from his point of view.
But Andrew, even after we broke up with each other, has not disappeared, there is a strong relationship between us and I don’t know whether to say of friendship or love. I think of him a thousand times a day, when we talk on the phone I feel happy. When, from what he tells me, I understand that he is in a good mood, I feel carried away by that good mood. He is now with another guy, a good guy I know, and I'm glad they're together.
A few days ago, around mid-January, it was Andrew's birthday and I sent him a text message on which I had meditated for days to make him understand that I love and will always love him. When he called me on the phone he told me that he was happy with the wishes but that I was the only person who remembered his birthday, his boyfriend had completely forgotten about it. I replied: "Andrew, I love you and I wish you a world of good!" He was silent for a few seconds and then added: "Me too."
Before Andrew I had my stories, if I can say so, but they were more experiments than real love stories, with the guys before Andrew there has never been a complete sharing of everything, with them there was sex in common but not life, with me they didn’t talk about their problems, they played a role and followed the script without going too far from it. With Andrew there have never been rules and sharing was truly total, I felt involved in every aspect of his life, there was somehow a deep fusion of two lives, I felt important to him and I still feel important now.
My sexual interests towards him have faded a lot, I feel him as a brother more than anything else but in practice he is the only person who is really important to me. He talks to me about his guys, his disappointments, his falling in love and I don’t feel jealous, because I know I will never lose him. After Andrew I have never looked for other guys, I feel happy like that, I feel loved all the same and I know that it is important for Andrew that I love him and there is nothing that can gratify me more. I want him to be happy, to live his life with satisfaction, to learn to never belittle himself and to understand how important he can be in the lives of those who love him. I would be happy if Andrew could read what I wrote to you, even if these things are very well known to him. Thank you for everything, Project, and I wish you the greatest happiness.


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