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LOVE STORY OF AN OLD GAY MAN
#1
Dear friends of the Forum,

I'm here to make you a trust. I feel tired, sometimes tired, annoyed. This morning I was not good, I had some bad times and I felt the clear feeling that the game was over or nearby, a thing sudden, they made me sat, brought me a glass of water, then, rather quickly, it's gone ... I've been better. At least roughly I think I know what it is, it's an unpleasant things but a thing I should be able to live with, even though the confidence in my physical possibilities comes out rather very downsized. How the horizons change when you have to face these things! Once at home I also answered an email from my sister. But after that I felt disheartened. Sometimes I happen (it happened recently) when I'm in chat to lose control and, I would say, to lose the common sense, and I let me get involved in heated and out of place speeches in essence I become aggressive and not respectful of my interlocutor who is another person, sometimes very different from me from many points of view ... but I easily forget these things ... and I should not ... certainly should not.
 
Sometimes I feel discouraged and I have the obvious feeling of not being up to the situation. Things are much more complex than I expected them to be. I'm doing these days a reality bath to get out of my gay mythology and advance a bit in real-world knowledge. I realize more and more that I have a limited perspective and a short view, basically being old and seeing things as the old man see it. And just for the old gay men I wrote my daily post tonight. After all, that is the side of the gay life I know better.
_____
 
How much young guys there are in town in the morning, there are schools, universities, offices. The world is full of boys. They are beautiful, undoubtedly, they are the hope for tomorrow, but we are old, we are the gays going to sunset, those who have to accept that it is no longer time for them to fight and their day is turning to sunset. It is not a problem of gay or straight, for us now the problem is that of the relationship between old and young people, the problem is how to be accepted, not as gays, but as old men, to be accepted by the young people, by the boys, be accepted in order to feel ourselves useful, to feel alive for a while. But it's not easy to be accepted ... because we speak an old language, because we remember old things, that make sense only to those who lived them. Memories of life, or of non-life, or of shadows of life, things to which we have given the sense of reality just repeating them again and again ... when we speak about ourselves we are rediscover and re-invent ourselves, but the past is a sad time. As Pasolini said: Just living, just loving counts, not having loved, not having lived. This is also about the condition of the old men and in particular of the old gays excluded from the present. The lucky ones are few, and when I say lucky I mean those who are not completely alone, others have to get used to living with loneliness. A boy finds friends, but an old man is irascible, bizarre, unfriendly and keeps away friends before they approach him. Being old gays ... ok ... those who have lived at least have something to remember but most of us have nothing to remember, fantasies, certainly ... totally unilateral dreams, but real human contact ... very little, the affections ... if can be called affections are so sublimated that they become evanescent. Living at sunset is just accept what will happen, there is nothing to build. It struck me a story of a gay old man, my friend Guido, he is 78 years old ... his story is both beautiful and terrible at the same time. I refer to it in the very same way Guido told me it in a few words. Guido has always lived alone, at 64 he retired, and has continued to live alone, has no close relatives, in practice he has nobody at all, only an old dog to keep him company. One day Guido went shopping at the supermarket, slipped and the femur broke, at 75 he was forced to stay alone at home. He turned to a volunteer association and sent a gay to assist him. The guy was 31 years old. In short ... Guido fell in love with this guy and the guy understood the situation but continued to go to Guido's home, and they formed a real friendship between them. That guy was not gay. Guido after a few months started walking again, first badly, but then things started getting better, until he became independent again, the guy went on to find him also when it was not strictly necessary. Guido was happy, for the first time in his life he felt loved, but unfortunately things have gone bad. After a few months the guy died in a car crash. The whole story lasted 24 months. Now Guido is newly alone at 78. The love story that he has lived between 74 and 76, paradoxically, has strengthened his desire to live. He talks about that guy as the son he wanted to have, he talks about it serenely, but the presence of that guy and his sudden death left Guido an indelible trace.
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