11-16-2020, 03:39 AM
Hello Project,
in your opinion, what should a 35-year-old do who has lost his mind a little for a 32-year-old who is a bit dissolute? We are not kids neither he nor I, between us there is a good emotional and even sexual understanding, when we meet, which happened rarely even before, but now with the lockdown it almost doesn't happen anymore. I say that I have lost my mind a bit because I like him first of all physically, he is the guy I have always dreamed of, strong, black haired, Mediterranean type, but gentle, smart. If I have to identify the ideal guy from my point of view there is no doubt that it is him. I met him for the first time in university, I was walking down the street and from afar I saw a beautiful guy sitting on a bench in a garden, he seemed really dazzling, sexy in the most natural way possible, for my eyes he was a real magnet. I walked over and we exchanged a very brief glance, but that glance said whatever was needed! All the guys who catch my attention even a little remind me of him for some reason: the smile, the voice, the posture, but above all the kindness. Having ascertained that he is my ideal type, the other problem remains: he’s a bit dissolute, I would say more than a bit, he is free, indeed very free in his behavior, I must say that however he spoke clearly from the first moment, he tells me how things are, he doesn’t play the part of the lover, a role which doesn’t fit him at all, my biggest concern is not that I could lose him, something I don’t want but I think it will happen sooner or later, even if it has not happened so far, but that he can get into trouble with sexually transmitted diseases, this holds me back a lot in regards to him, but with me, he has always had safe sex and always carries a box of condoms with him, because he is not reckless. We are very different, I dream of a tender, affectionate love, made above all of cuddles and naked hugs, he thinks that sex has very precise boundaries and that it is the fundamental thing, that is, he cannot bear caresses, mutual attentions, resting the head on each other's chest, sleeping together after sex. Starting from such different ways of seeing, it should be difficult to find a balance and instead it was not difficult at all, also because I tried to adapt to his ways of seeing and he blunted certain imperative tones that he had at the beginning. Sexually, there is harmony between us and, on a more general level, more than an emotional love there is a respect, an undeclared but shared rule of not judging the other, and taking him seriously for what he is, without the will to change him, while feeling him somehow distant and different. I loved him and didn't want to lose him but he could very well have done without me and he didn't, at least for a few years he didn't, now maybe he's starting to do it, in the sense that he calls me less. It is evident that he has other people in mind and that he must continue on his way, I know this and I have always known it and I’m not even sorry, but I would like that at least with another guy he was fine, that he wouldn’t feel frustrated and instead I fear that this doesn’t happen and that he ends up carrying on four or five stories in parallel without finding in any of them the answer he would like. He says he doesn't consider me a friend but just a sex partner, but I find very strange that someone could refer to me this expression, because I consider my sexual performances the absolutely weakest aspect of my personality. Since in one way or another I take it for granted that he will end up staying permanently with another guy, or perhaps with more than another, but in any case not with me, I would like to remain his friend, and here, if on the one hand there is the question of the sexual partner, on the other hand there is the fact that, when we speak, we speak very seriously. I don't know if our story will ever end up into a friendship, I would like it, but my way, anyhow he sees these things in another way. I have no resentment towards him, because in his way (a bit brutal way) he also treats me with affection, even if he can't admit it, or maybe now he is beginning to admit it at least in part. I don't know if a relationship of this kind can stand up to comparison with his true love affairs, however, even if very slowly and marginally the story with me goes on, he hasn't put it aside definitively. Does all this come just out of sex? Frankly, it seems a bit absurd, also because he has told me a hundred times that I’m not his type. I'll call him in the morning. Sometimes when I call him, at the end of the call, I wonder why I called him … anyway I'll call him tomorrow!
I waited three weeks for him to call me but he didn't, so I called him. We spent a long time on the phone. Sometimes I was very attentive to what he was saying and sometimes I couldn't hear him, in the sense that I couldn't distinguish the words because the line was disturbed and I had to ask him to repeat. After the usual things he tells me that I put him in a bad mood and the call takes the tone of our last calls. So I greet him and close the call, thinking maybe he'll call me back, but he doesn't. It ended like this.
What does it remain? For his part I don't know but I think that for him it is more a solved annoyance than a problem, on my part there remains a sense of great uncertainty, confusion, loss, as in the face of a finished story, the feeling of a difficult dialogue, to the limit of the impossible, of a mutual inability to understand each other, I say mutual because even I too haven’t been able to fully understand him, each of us is perhaps attached to his models or behaves as if he were attached to his models and doesn’t give up his positions. We have to get used to the idea of being out of place, out of time, not of being marginal but of being worthless, or, from a certain point on, of having a negative value, so that the other can enrich himself getting rid of us, we have to get used even to the idea that at the end of illusions there is only loneliness and that there is nothing that can overcome it, neither sex nor friendship can do it, perhaps love could, which however, in reality doesn’t exist. The day is beautiful, bright, and we must remember this date: [- OMISSIS -], as the day of starting over. You have to realize that you aren’t important for anyone. It is necessary to understand that being single is not a sentence but the natural condition of anyone and perhaps, more brutally, that feelings don’t exist, I’m not talking about his, which I think exist even if they are directed elsewhere and I think they are also frustrated, but mine, because I don’t feel upset by his absence, I have already rationalized it precisely because I don’t feel and perhaps I didn’t even feel strongly involved before. Mild, evanescent feelings that are easily lost without pain. I have not been deceived, I have just done everything to deny the evidence. Today's disillusionment is only the acknowledgment of a general state of a large part of Humanity, or perhaps saying so I want to make a half-joy out of a common evil, which however is not really a common evil but only an individual evil, admitted and not granted that it's something bad. We must turn the page, indeed the page has turned by itself. On the previous page there were so many fantasies, on the next one there is nothing at all. The void must be filled. If the void cannot be filled with people and with loves, it must be filled with things and duties. First thing to do: get distracted, fill your mind with something else, sleep, read, see a movie, listen to some music, talk about something else with other people, change your thoughts. I have no resentment towards him, he has no faults, he is what he is, if we are incompatible it is no one's fault. I would like to sleep, but in a pause of being, sleep without dreams, without pain, without anxiety, I would like a pause, before starting again with a different, more essential scenario, without projections into the future, or rather before waking up after having forgotten or clouded everything and with no longer any desire to start over. I don't think he has rethought me and I think it's better this way, maybe we walked a little bit of road together, maybe I deluded myself also about this, but, if it happened, it is now part of the past. It wasn't a bad past or at least I didn't experience it badly even if maybe it was just a fantastic construction. I miss him a little, but I know that it must be like this, that it is better this way, and then it is better to fall asleep and not think.