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People say that having a boyfriend is a beautiful thing, for years I have believed that this expression was absolutely exaggerated, I believed it because I had had some guys and had had my first experiences with them, they were good guys, I don't deny it, but when our stories ended up in nothing I was happy that they were over, I used to promise myself not to look for another guy, but then, you know how things use to go, inevitably another story started with less motivation and less illusions and story after story the myth of the love story tended to evaporate without a trace, in the end I was disillusioned, not frustrated but just disillusioned. 

Then I met my current boyfriend. I was problematic, he was problematic, The dialogue was difficult, sometimes frustrating and he displaced me with the coherence of his reasoning and his underlying basic negativity, but also with the clarity of his thought. I had met him in chat and we had talked for months without ever having seen each other, then we realized that we lived in the same city and we met. I was immediately struck by his physical presence, I had never seen such a handsome guy and I thought that between us it would never work because he would never be interested in me, but I would have liked him I don't say that he was my boyfriend but at least a true friend, let's say it would have been enough for me, maybe not, but I think it would have been enough for me. 

He was not a happy guy, he didn’t smile but used to make a slight sarcastic grin at my every attempt to make him see the world in a positive way, it was a spontaneous attitude and I think completely unconscious, a sort of automatic reaction of one who feels that he is being offered things that seem to him just fairy tales. In the first period we hadn’t seen each other in person but we used to talk a lot in chat, it happened several times that we spent the full night chatting till the dawn, he was often depressed to the point that he made me fear that he might make some rash gesture but when he mentioned such speeches he did it only by talking in general. The very long phone calls practically always began with a strongly depressed tone and ended in a slightly more serene way after hours of confrontation and even long silences. 

At first neither he nor I thought we would ever become a couple, we just talked about frustrations, big problems of life and other things like that. He had his own love life with which I had nothing to do and in fact I didn't even want to have anything to do and I think he was completely disinterested in me in the sense of building a couple with me. We were just chat friends but maybe talking to me for hours made sense to him too. I kept my distance and didn't look for him because sometimes talking to him made me very anxious. Our relationship had nothing of what one would expect from a romance. 

The beginnings were difficult, often very difficult, he never got angry with me, but he tended to point out that he was not interested in me, that he was not my boyfriend and when he did he seemed to be talking about a paradoxical hypothesis and almost grotesque and this sometimes bothered me but, after the clarification, however, he returned to very serious speeches, I think he had a good opinion of me from the beginning, perhaps he saw me as a possible friend to test, but not in order to consider me like a boyfriend but just to be able to consider me a true friend. 

He was depressed but deep down he recognized me a certain goodwill towards him. His reasoning was lucidly depressing but he was not aggressive either towards me or towards other people, if anything, he tended to feel guilty and depressed, his self-esteem was very low and I couldn't understand why, because, apart from his physical beauty, his intelligence seemed to me absolutely unique, I don't mean only that he was very intelligent but also that he had an intelligence that was absolutely his own, rigorously logical, he seemed to me that he hadn't at present a true emotional intelligence and I was inclined tu suspect he hadn't had it either in the past. The very idea of affectivity seemed to him completely irrational, a way of undermining his own logical coherence. 

The first few times he came to see me and had to take a very long road, several kilometers, because at the time he didn't have a car and was riding a bicycle, then I started to go and wait for him near his house, but not under his house, because he wanted me to keep my distance from his home. Sometimes I had the very concrete temptation to slip away and not get involved further, because our relationship was yes interesting but also stressful and frustrating, because my presence seemed to produce no result, but he never allowed me to leave, rejected me with his sharp logical reasoning and his reductive clarifications, he made me uncomfortable in the face of my hypocrisies but he kept looking for me, we talked less frequently but when it happened we talked for hours, he began to discover something about me and my previous life and also began to have his say on these things and without reticence, he reproached me for my logical inconsistencies, for not doing what I really wanted, for my being restrained, my thinking too much without acting, my continually trying to devalue sexuality which, instead, was a fundamental thing for him, the only a fundamental thing, given that for him the emotional life was nothing but a chimera without meaning. 

Then, slowly, but very slowly, something began to change. He intrigued me very much also and perhaps above all for his leaving but never definitively. He threw a bucket of cold, or rather frozen, water at me, but then every now and then he smiled at me to tell me that even though I had so many faults he still considered me a true friend. We never used affectionate expressions or expressions that could make us think even remotely of a relationship between us, indeed, between us by definition there was nothing, because he wouldn't have accepted that there was something, but slowly, beyond words, I began to feel that he was studying me, that he was trying to figure out if he could trust me. He showed up more often at my home, asked me pressing and almost embarrassing questions about my sex life, my relationships with my friends, my previous stories, he cornered me, demanded clear-cut or at least radically honest answers, but I didn't have many clear-cut answers to give him. 

He expected me to have a sex life at least at the level of his and he was puzzled when I told him it was much more standard and more mundane. He hardly believed it and repeated the same questions to me even two or three times. Let me be clear, he had had his stories, of which he told me almost nothing and for this very reason in our relationship there had been long pauses, during which I began to think that he had disappeared, that he had finally found a guy who really suited him, but then, even in the early stages of our relationship, after a few weeks, he would call me back and it was like the break had never existed. I owe him a lot, I love him, I respect him as a man, I feel gratified that he takes me seriously, but then we were at the beginning and I couldn't imagine what he could want from me and above all what could make him feel bad, because sometimes he was really bad. 

Sometimes he called me at night and asked me to go near his house and he went down and stayed in my car in silence, he knew I would never say no, my presence made him feel more calm, at certain times he was agitated, anguished, the word desperate is perhaps the most suitable, he saw himself as hopeless. His love stories, or rather as he used to say his sex stories, didn't pull him out of his melancholy. I was beginning to understand that our "non-relationship" had its own meaning and consistency. I tried to ingest myself into his life as little as possible, but he was beginning to insert himself into mine in an ever deeper way, and sometimes I was afraid of this, then sex came when I least expected it. 

He had a boyfriend but he also felt attracted to me, it hadn't been like that from the beginning, everything was born very gradually and quietly, even if in the end I had begun to suspect how things really were. He made me understand that he needed me also from that point of view, he realized that, when he started talking about these things, I tended to run away and change the subject and then he was really explicit. When it first happened it was all incredibly easy and abysmally different from what I had imagined, I thought I would never get involved in such situations but he was patient, cautious, extremely attentive to my reactions, I would say lovely. I don't know if this can be called affection. It had never happened to me to experience sex in such a beautiful and above all spontaneous way, and to see him so peaceful and fulfilled. 

At the time I was very conditioned by the fact that he had a boyfriend, being with him I felt like I was doing something that would have put the other guy in crisis, but he seemed to pay no attention to these things. After a few weeks he told me that his boyfriend was gone, since then I have had fewer problems while staying with him and a period has begun in which our relationship has taken on a distinctly sexual connotation. 

The thing itself didn't make me feel uneasy at all, quite the opposite! But there were two things that didn't allow me to better live the situation: firstly the fact that he was calm and in a good mood while we were having sex but, afterwards, his mood usually changed and darkened sharply and I couldn't get him back in a good mood, in fact the more I tried, the more he felt upset and angry with me, he was not aggressive but highly nervous, as if he had done something that perhaps he didn't really want to do or rather he didn't have to do. I couldn't tell him that I loved him because that would have made him mad, or at least I thought so at the time and our meetings practically always ended in bad moods and, secondly, having given our relationship a strong sexual connotation had somehow lowered the level of our dialogue, that is, our friendship had become more superficial, we talked much less and our meetings were reduced to being only sexual encounters and also very ritualized and repetitive. During our meetings he didn't even want to be caressed, the idea of kissing each other would have put him in crisis because for him the kiss tasted too much of an emotional relationship, while he considered sex an obvious and problem-free thing. 

Once he asked me if I was happy with the evening and I replied that I was happy because he was there, but he didn't want to hear such things and insisted on telling me that I was a hypocrite and that I pretended not to understand that he was talking about what we had done together because he had insisted a little too much to induce me to do something that didn't come naturally to me, according to him he had done very well to insist because he had made me discover something new and also very interesting in his opinion. I hadn't told him no, basically I didn't feel very involved in certain things but I was happy not to have said no to him because I thought that if I did, he would have been worse. 

Sometimes he knew a new guy and maybe he even fell in love with him, then he disappeared for a while, because he tried to be faithful to the new guy, then after a month or so, he reappeared and it was obvious that he was alone again. There was a time when he wanted me to experience "his" sexuality and was very insistent on this point. In the end I didn't say no to him this time too, but after that time he didn't insist anymore, because previously he had insisted a little too much, forcing his hand a little, just to see if in the end I would give in, not for the thing itself, once he got the proof that I wouldn't have said no anyway, the requests stopped, the relationship became less sexual and more affective, there was also sex, but there was no longer the sexual frenzy, and above all we started talking again seriously. 

He was always depressed but in a more calm way, he told me things about his life that I would never have imagined and which must be very difficult to talk about, it was then, that is, when I realized that he totally trusted me, that I fell in love with him in a profound way and I spent months of relative happiness, I say relative because I kept seeing him depressed. We spent a lot of time together, we knew each other well and objectively we loved each other. 

Once, three years ago, he texted me for the first time with the word ILY! (I love you). I think it was one of the best moments of my life. We had both graduated and worked in very different industries but we still lived each in his parents' home. He had his stories but I didn't interfere, and he hardly ever talked about them. When we saw each other there was always a bit of sex and unfortunately in the end there were also melancholies, but we had a real dialogue, there were things about me that he didn't understand, that he interpreted in his own way, but it would have been useless to try to give him explications, because explications are made up of words and his way of understanding me was at another level, that is, at a sexual level, a level that I had always tried to put aside. 

I wanted to ask him why after sex "with me" he was sad, then I asked him the question but omitting the "with me", he didn't know what to answer, he just said to me: "It's not that I don't want to answer you, I just don't know, it's an automatic thing that I can't control." What was he looking for from me? At first I really thought it was just sex, but that feels more like a means than an end to me. Today, when he's not with me, objectively I miss him, I don't know if he misses me in the same way, maybe not in the same way, but I think he also misses me a little. 

When I haven't heard from him for more than two weeks I begin to be afraid that our relationship has come to an end, but so far my fears have always been denied and indeed it is precisely the duration of our relationship that encourages me to think that in any case I will see him again and in a short time. In fact, among his merits there is his being direct and transparent, he is so used to taking blows in life that he almost takes them for granted, he is not vindictive, he doesn't keep his feelings secrets to revenge in the future, he doesn't defend himself by attacking, you cannot expect a bond from him like the oyster on the rock, but you know that he is there and that he will never disappear in thin air, he needs his total freedom but he doesn't forget you, if you make a mistake with him, he minimizes the mistake, he doesn't blame you anyway, he doesn't take advantage of any advantageous positions, he doesn't see the relationship with you as a game of chess to win and not even as an opportunity to get some more gratification, indeed, if you try to flatter him he slows you down because he feels somehow made fun of, he expects from you a behavior like his, that is spontaneous, without duties and without real expectations. 

I think I'm in love with him, or at least a little in love. I have known many guys in my life, but he is my model of man, both physically and mentally, he is the man I have always dreamed of. He's not afraid of me, he respects me, I think he loves me in his own way too, even if he would never accept this terminology. I desire his presence, when he is there I have no qualms of any kind and neither has he, he is the only man with whom I have never felt embarrassed and by whom I have never felt judged. 

Sometimes, he doesn't fully understand me, because he too has his preconceptions, but then overcomes them and is willing to change his mind on the rare occasions when it makes sense to do so, but they are really rare occasions. Why is only him left in my mind? I don't know but that's exactly what happened. I thought that sex with him could create problems, at first it sometimes happened, but today it doesn't happen anymore, if I opened myself to understand the meaning of sexuality lived in two, the merit is solely his, because he had patience, he had a lot patience and treated me with sweetness, like no one else had done. 

Dear Project, I’m writing you this email because I haven't heard from him for four weeks now and this fact puts me in crisis, I miss him, I would like to know how he is, but I don't call him and I wait for him to do it. This time the pause was long, and I begin to fear that the pause could become definitive. Falling in love is not always a thing that leads to happiness, there is also a lot of suffering. I tell you honestly that I would be happy if he found another guy, but I wish he were happy at least. We are both 33 years old, luckily we have a job but we are still two drifters without an emotional reference point, sometimes I think that reference point is there, sometimes not and then I feel adrift and I miss him damnably .
If you think this email is also useful to others, do what you think best but, if you can, answer me in private.

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