| Welcome, Guest |
You have to register before you can post on our site.
|
| Online Users |
There are currently 35 online users.
» 0 Member(s) | 35 Guest(s)
|
| Latest Threads |
END OF A GAY COUPLE
Forum: Gay couples
Last Post: gayprojectforum
04-26-2024, 06:30 PM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 200
|
GAY DREAMS AND REAL LIFE
Forum: Gay guys
Last Post: gayprojectforum
04-25-2024, 08:45 PM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 10
|
GAY LOVE AS AN ANTIDOTE T...
Forum: Gay couples
Last Post: gayprojectforum
04-25-2024, 04:50 PM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 183
|
HOW TO REGISTER ON THIS F...
Forum: Announcements and Services
Last Post: HappySoul
04-25-2024, 03:35 PM
» Replies: 6
» Views: 4,880
|
IMPORTANT NOTICE
Forum: Announcements and Services
Last Post: gayprojectforum
04-25-2024, 01:56 PM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 133
|
GAY SEX AND DEPRESSION
Forum: Gay discomfort
Last Post: gayprojectforum
04-25-2024, 12:58 PM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 16
|
COOLING OF A GAY COUPLE A...
Forum: Gay couples
Last Post: gayprojectforum
12-12-2023, 04:16 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 3,332
|
GAY SEX AND AFFECTIVE INV...
Forum: Gay couples
Last Post: gayprojectforum
11-05-2023, 09:50 PM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 2,742
|
GAYS BETWEEN DREAM AND RE...
Forum: Gay discomfort
Last Post: gayprojectforum
10-25-2023, 03:36 PM
» Replies: 2
» Views: 249
|
GAYS AND SEXUAL DISCOMFOR...
Forum: Gay discomfort
Last Post: gayprojectforum
10-21-2023, 09:20 PM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 162
|
|
|
| I DISCOVERED I WAS GAY AT THE AGE OF 30 |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 02-08-2018, 12:29 PM - Forum: Understand to be gay
- No Replies
|
 |
Hi Project,
First of all I have to thank you for last night, I can guarantee you that I was very impressed, I didn’t imagine similar things, I had understood that it was a serious thing and I also realized that it should have a true sense, but I didn’t think things could happen like the ones you made me read. It was not the first time I was trying to get closer to gay environments but I was very suspicious because my previous experiences had been disappointing.
Of course it is almost unbelievable that one wakes up 30 years old and starts so late to see things that are obvious but the removal was so strong that, as I told you, I came a step away from the marriage, then, fortunately I asked myself what I was doing and the world collapsed on me. I have been mad for everyone, from my girlfriend to my parents, I don’t tell how her parents reacted, but now the worst moment of the storm after the breakdown of the marriage hypothesis has passed. To my ex I couldn’t, or maybe not wanted to explain anything, I've exploited her for years, it’s true, but I didn’t realize it. She felt betrayed, I know, but I would never be able to explain how things really are, because it's ugly to say, but I often thought that she would marry me, even if between us there was no real transport, neither sexual nor emotional, just to find an accommodation, it could seem bad and perhaps I'm looking for a justification, but that's what I think.
When my parents learned that I would not be married, they thought everything but the right thing. Neither my father nor my mother have the slightest suspicion that I can be gay and I think this is good, because the atmosphere is already strange but if they knew that I’m gay it would be difficult to live together. I still live with them but I have a stable job not bad and I could also go to stay on my own, but we are in the same city, a small city, and going to live in another house would not give me more privacy, I should really change city, but this would mean changing job.
It seems very strange to me when I walk down the street, turn around to look at a guy, because I'm not used to it, I've always avoided doing it, almost on principle, I know it's a stupid thing but that's what happened for years and years, then I'm rediscovering the pleasures of sex (not the couple sex) and it begins to seem to me like a simple thing, I would say completely natural, which is done because it’s pleasant and you leave the thoughts free to go where they want, and it seems strange to me that for many years I have had so many problems with these things.
When I visit porn sites I mostly look for photos of nice guys in very spontaneous attitudes and I think the guys are just a beautiful thing, maybe the most beautiful thing that nature has created and I imagine how it would be to know a guy exactly how I dream of him, how it would be to embrace him knowing that he wants it, in short, being with a guy like me, that is, who thinks the same things, who desires the same things, who immediately understands what I want to say.
When I was with my girlfriend I didn’t feel uncomfortable, even if she didn’t love me in the true sense of the word (and how could she?) Somehow she loved me but I felt that being with her was not what I really wanted and I was wondering how could so many other guys find sex so engaging, now I understand it and I find it engaging too, but the gay sex, but then I considered my gay impulses a kind of private perversion that must be repressed because it’s obvious that it’s wrong.
I miss so much to know other gay guys, not those of pride but of those like me, who may have also passed through straight experiences or even not, but gay guys with whom I can talk freely. Last night I felt strange because we talked about sexuality, that is gay sexuality, and I thought I would never have succeeded. I don’t hide that I was also affected by the fact of being too old to still have these problems, I told myself that at twenty, ok, it’s possible, but at 30, it’s impossible, I felt immature. There are many gay guys like me ... it's true, in fact it’s obvious, but I had always removed the idea of making the big jump and trying to understand what is "really" on the other side of the wall. I begin to think that on the other side of the wall there is a very normal world of real guys who live or try to live as they can, that is, in the best way with respect to the situation around them, which unfortunately doesn’t encourage gays.
The Gay Project environment is actually very different from the classic gay environments. I happened to be a bit on the chat, and a guy who had launched a sexual proposal was immediately kicked, just in two seconds time. This fact struck me a lot, I didn’t talk in the chat and I didn’t respond to the greeting because I didn’t want to talk but I followed the conversation and it was very far from those of other gay chats, then I decided to send you the mail, well, I didn’t even expect an answer, but you answered less than half an hour later and after an hour we were on msn. I must say that I was impressed by the whole tone of the conversation, very simple and very direct. We talked all night and I apologize for it, but it was worth it. Now, if I think I'm gay, I feel less strange, it doesn’t seem to me like a perversion, it really struck me when you said that being gay is a way of loving, it's true! But I never put it this way.
You made me think about another fundamental thing, that is prevention. Frankly such things can be easily underestimated because one is led to think that are very distant things that can happen only to others, I believe that I will treasure what I learned yesterday when I fall in love with a guy and I hope it would happen soon, because now I begin to see it as something that could also happen even if it still seems to me a distant thing. Me with a boyfriend? Well, such a thing a few months ago would have put me in crisis, but now I think I would very much like it.
You insisted a lot on loving each other and I didn’t expect it, I always saw sex between two guys as something that is done especially for oneself and not as a form of shared tenderness. Project, all right, I don’t do it too long, I think I'll send you some more mail if you have the patience to answer me. The Project is truly a unique thing!
Andrew N.
|
|
|
| A GAY LOVE THAT DOES NOT SET |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 02-07-2018, 06:14 PM - Forum: Gay couples
- No Replies
|
|
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.
John
|
|
|
|
| A DIFFICULT GAY RELATIONSHIP |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 02-06-2018, 08:56 PM - Forum: Gays and sex
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
I’m 18 years old and I would like to talk about something that has happened to me and that makes me feel very bad. It's a complicated story, but please be patient and tell me what you think.
In early January this year I felt terribly uncomfortable, because I was alone and I didn’t have a boyfriend. I cannot be alone and I missed a guy a lot, I had fallen in an awful love, but then I saw the guy in question with a girl and such a thing had torn me to pieces, but I knew that there was nothing to do. I spent my days fantasizing about how nice it could be to have a guy who understands me, to talk with, reasoning like me and who loves me, I also wanted him nice, that is not beautiful, but as I like him, a sweet guy, affectionate.
At school, at an assembly I see a guy that I like a lot, let's say I didn’t notice him before, but I thought he was beautiful. After the disappointing experiences I had had with others, I didn’t delude myself very much, partly because I'm not as nice as him. But he approached me and started talking to me, I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t want to delude myself but I liked him.
In February, after the report cards, we went on a school trip, we ended up in the room together, just the two of us. I swear it was not a planned thing, but it happened. In short, when we went to bed, after a while he got out of his bed and approached me and asked if he could get into my bed. I didn’t know what to do, I wanted it, but I didn’t know what would happen, I told him yes and immediately afterwards I asked him if he was gay and he said yes.
It was beautiful, we touched each other and masturbated each other, I was in orbit and he was very fascinated too. We were careful not to do dangerous things because he confessed to me that he had done it with other guys. I was happy, as I have never been in my life. The next day we did it again and he insisted on going further, but I didn’t want to, he finally had oral sex to me but not me to him, even if the desire was so great, but I masturbated him.
Then the trip ended and we went back to Milan and my anxiety started there. He didn’t call me, he didn’t answer my messages, but he wanted me to go to his house when his parents were not there (they work in the afternoon) to have sex, for a few days I went there but, after sex, everything was over. I would have liked a bit of tenderness, but if I caressed him, he would look at me strangely and would tell me that he didn’t like those things. When I sent him some text messages he got angry because he told me that his parents could find the messages, but when his parents were not at home, he demanded me to go to him.
Once, I could not really, because I had grandma at home and I didn’t go and he got angry, black, he raised his voice, then it passed. Well, now for a few days I cannot stand him any longer, he always asks me if I like what we do and things like that, I try to tell him that I'd like something with a little more feeling and he replies to me that he’s very keen on me, but I have the impression that it is not like that at all. In short, I think that for him I'm worth something only because I run to his house to have sex whenever he wants, and our relationship ends here.
Project, now I'm at the point where I cannot bear him anymore. At the beginning I masturbated thinking of him, now I don’t do it anymore and when I'm at his house I wonder: What the hell am I doing here? I'm going to have a little sex, it’s true, but if we have sex this way it seems to me just a mechanical thing. I think I should get away from him, yesterday I tried, but he got angry, he raised his voice, he began to say that I exploit him and use him when it suits me and then I think I can throw him away like a rag, he told me that if I say no, between us everything is over forever and I don’t deserve him, but you could see that he was uncomfortable.
I didn’t know how to react because I didn’t want to hurt him and in the end I gave up and we had sex like the other times, but I really had the brain somewhere else. I honestly think that being told no makes him a terrible effect and I don’t want to hurt him in the heavy sense, because after all I love him and I don’t know what to do.
I send you my skype contact (omissis), because I would like to talk a bit about it, since I cannot talk about it with anyone.
Alex
|
|
|
|
| HOMOPHOBIA AMONG OLD AND YOUNG PEOPLE |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 02-06-2018, 07:09 PM - Forum: Gay discomfort
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
rather than telling you my story of single twenty-five guy, obviously gay, I would like to ask you and the guys of the forum some questions about the social conditioning that shapes, even today, to a large extent, the behavior of us gay people, I put myself of course also in this group. I live in a small village in Lombardy, about 80 km from Milan. People expect it to be an open and, let's say, gay-friendly environment, but it's not at all and the thing that makes me more angry is that those of narrow mindedness are young people.
In the village there is an elderly lady more than 80 years old, whom I will call Ada, who has remained alone and, in practice, she relies on the care of her neighbors and I’m one of those neighbors, and it happens that I go to see her three or four times a week, to bring her shopping or to pay her bills at the post office. With Mrs. Ada I have a special relationship, I consider her a bit like a grandmother and she is really happy when she sees me.
One day I went to her in a bad mood because some of my "friends" with whom I went to see a movie, had made atrocious comments about a guy they consider gay. Mrs. Ada saw me right outside of me and asked what had happened and I already told her without omitting anything. She replied that those who do such things don’t understand anything and allow themselves to judge things they don’t know at all. The answer struck me. Then we kept talking and finally I felt I could trust her and I told her that I'm gay too and she hugged me, just hugged tightly, and told me she had to tell me something.
In practice, as a young girl she fell deeply in love with a gay guy, she was fine with that guy, without sex, because there was respect and affection. She would have married him only with a formal wedding, but she had understood that the guy needed to live his life. In practice, to avoid creating legal constraints that would have complicated things a lot, she agreed to play the role of that guy's eternal girlfriend and encouraged him to live his life.
She told me: "I also met the boyfriend of my, let's say so, boyfriend, and he was a very good guy, but you know we were at the beginning of the 50s and we couldn’t expose too much. In short, they loved each other but they loved me too, like a sister, but they really loved me, then so many years passed and they went to live in Belgium, but we were often in touch, and they came to my town for Easter and Christmas, they came for me because they no longer had anyone here, and we were together a few days. In short, when I hear "gay" it’s of them that I think, and now I think of you too! And woe to those who touch me the gays!" The words were more or less these.
When I was leaving her house she said to me: "I will pray for you!" I made a face a little perplexed and she added: "Of course! So that the Eternal Father makes you happy as you want!"
In the land I never saw old men or woman who did homophobic speeches, strange but true, not even one. Those of my age, and even younger, if you take them one by one don’t make homophobic speeches, but if you put them together, they go wild and don’t stop any more, it's a squalid thing, because they follow the logic of the herd.
The thing is not even taken seriously, they start with more or less stupid jokes and the escalation starts from there. There were very young guys, of eighth grade, who were beaten by their comrades who spat against them. The older guys, those of the last years of school are less stupid and these things don’t even happen, but the kids are really fierce. I wonder what education they received in the family!
There is another thing to consider: I'm not publicly out, but in my country "officially" there are no gay guys, there are many guys, at least 200, if you see the buses that bring them in the morning at school, but there are no gays! Just nobody! Evidently they are afraid and are hiding. I understand them very well, because I did it and I still do it myself.
Nobody knows about me in my house, they don’t ask me questions, because now my parents are just worrying about work, I have a job, it's not a great job, but for me it's okay, my parents would like the moon, but the conditions for a better job are lacking.
Even in my house there is homophobia, sometimes I hear some shivering comments and I cannot reply, otherwise it would be the world war and it is not really the case. That’s why I’m still single. I met some guys through the internet, but never one in person, here it wouldn’t be possible. I don’t know if this is true even in the big cities, but I have my job in my village and I have to forget big cities!
Come out publicly! Gay guys tell me online ... and I answer that they live on another planet. What to do? In my opinion there is little to do.
|
|
|
|
| HOMOSEXUALITY AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE IN A BOARDING SCHOOL |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 02-05-2018, 06:45 PM - Forum: True gay stories
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
I don’t know if you are a real person or a group of people, I will do as if you were a person. Meanwhile, thank you for creating the blog, but I must tell you now that gay things for me have a strange taste, I’m quite full of complexes about these things and even now, as an old man, I'm upset by a lot of strange and absurd thoughts. I don’t know if I'm really gay, I don’t even know if I want to be gay, I'm sure that in the things of sex I lived the life of a pathological case, a neurotic man who never managed to find his balance. That said, you certainly didn’t understand anything, so it's worth it to tell you what happened. I would like you to put my story on the blog, but if you don’t want it I can understand you. In any case I would like to receive your answer.
I was born in Northern Italy, in Veneto, and then there was really hunger in those places. My parents were farmers and I was the only surviving child. My older brother had died in the war and after the elementary school in the country, my parents had to decide whether to send me to the middle school (with Latin and aimed at the continuation of studies) or to the job placement school (allowing immediate access to work without continuing education). My parents had little money but they made a huge effort to send me to the middle school, to make me study and give me more possibilities. I thank them for this because my economic tranquility of today is the result of their choice.
I did the first and second class of the middle school in a town near my country. I had to get up very early in the morning to get the bus, my mother washed and stretched my shirt every day, because I only had two shirts and at school I had to go well dressed, she also polished my shoes, dad lined my books and made me find good things to eat, which were chestnuts or figs, according to the season. There was the Latin in the middle school and for me it was a big obstacle, but there was the parish priest, Don Antony, who gave me lessons in the afternoon and had me do all my homework. The other guys in my classroom were all from rich or at least middle-class families, but then I didn’t realize it. When there were meetings with the professors Don Antony went there instead of my parents, and I didn’t understand why, but my parents didn’t show up for fear of making me look bad, because they didn’t speak Italian well and their hands were ruined by the work in the country side. My dad had only finished elementary school and my mother hadn’t even finished it.
Despite everything, at school I did not have serious problems of adaptation, the professors were very demanding but I had a certain desire to study and with the help of Don Antony, who had half a mind to send me, later, in the seminar, I managed to I pass quite well.
In the summer of 57 I lost both my parents because of a typhoid fever that the doctor couldn’t cure and I found myself, at 13, practically alone in the world. I was entrusted to a brother of my mother, Uncle Battista, who lived in a small village in the mountains and had the animals in a mountain pasture. If I went to stay with Uncle Battista, who was also old, widower, and had no children, I could not continue to study. The uncle told me that I could either go to the seminary in Vicenza or go to boarding school in Rome, in a school that Don Antony knew. I didn’t want to go to the seminary absolutely and chose to go to Rome, where I had never been. They signed me to school and Uncle Battista took charge of paying the fee, which should not have been so low, because I would have eaten and slept in that boarding school.
Don Antony accompanied me to Rome and introduced me to the Rector of the school, to tell the truth a little shabby, but clean, it was a convent of friars, there was the church, but there were few friars, no more than seven or eight, all old. The boarding school was run by the prefect friar, who was hardly ever seen, all the internal organization was entrusted to young people, university students, whom we called little prefects, they were guys who were in college without paying because in practice they were working with us, paying attention to us, they were the ones who followed us during the hours of study and they made us do our homework, they watched us in the afternoon, during meals, and at night they slept in their small rooms, one next to each dormitory, to control the discipline. In general, they didn’t care so much about us because they had a lot to study for their university exams.
I was new in the boarding school, my comrades had known each other for two years. The school was not bad, all professors were laymen, basically retired teachers of state schools, they were all old but good and they spent their souls to make us learn things. I still remember some professors. The professor of mathematics to which I owe my interest in this subject, in which I was very good, the professor of Italian and Latin who told us the stories of Iliad and Odyssey reciting as in the theater and also the gym teacher who practically made us do premilitary gymnastics, as at the time of fascism. The first days I was fine and I wrote it to Don Antony, who sent me a letter every week, but as early as mid-October I began to see strange things.
There were some boys who disappeared from the study hall and no one knew where they ended up and then they came back half an hour later, I was totally naïve at that time, I didn’t know anything about sex, I had not yet discovered masturbation and they could tell me anything that I would have believed it. The other boys, who didn’t know me, tended to put me aside and keep me out of their secrets, but it did not take me long to realize that in the boarding school there was an invisible, underground life.
For an internal rule, the dorms were distinguished by years of school, so as to keep the children of different ages separate. We saw the students of the sixth and seventh grade only at breakfast, at lunch, at dinner and on special occasions, for example in church, but the recreation was done for separate groups, so in practice I could only get familiar with the boys of the eighth grade.
At the time I was a nice guy for my age, but I was very delicate and very polite. After the first weeks of school one of the boys, one of the most respected little bosses, began to call me “man-woman” and to make jokes that at first I didn’t even understand, like; "You are a man, not your sister!" Then the idea that I was the man-woman began to spread among all my comrades.
One day, during the hours of study, one of the boys approached the little prefect for an explanation of mathematics, the little prefect told him that he was studying letters and that if he wanted to, he could go to another little prefect who was studying engineering in his room. The boy came back to the study room after about half an hour all blushed and disheveled, it was there that I had the first suspicion that the half hours of absence of some boys were not dedicated to receive school explanations. But it was only an impression, I said nothing and everything went on as before.
One evening, before going to sleep, when the little prefect was not there, the little bully boss, who was called Silvan, approached me and gave me a caress and then put his hands in the middle of my legs and said: "it's just to see if you're a man or a woman!" I felt my face burn, I wanted to go to the little prefect to report it but Silvan told me: "Go go! So he also will give you a good check!" And laughed.
Over time they told me that one of the little prefects, the one of engineering, in practice the one of our dorm, had sex with the boys of the eighth grade. With me he never tried such things because I didn’t give him confidence, but according to the stories of others, with those who gave him rope he let himself go right. He was a nice guy, I wanted, maybe, that it happened with me, but at the same time I was afraid and nothing happened.
The first really bad things happened to me just before Christmas holidays. The boys were abandoned to themselves, the little prefects were almost all gone for Christmas holidays, except our little prefect, the one of engineering. I make it short because, even if so many years have passed, such things cause me a little repulsion. In short, four guys block me on the bed, they lower my trousers and pants, and Silvan tries to penetrate me, let's say he makes the move, I scream, but they put a handkerchief in my mouth and then they are four guys and I don’t have the strength to oppose. There was no penetration but the humiliation was terrible. Silvan told me: "Now you understand what will happen to you if you don’t do everything we want!" At that moment, if I could I would have killed him.
After that I keep them at a distance, I show myself as little as possible, but things cannot go on like this. If I had not done anything I would have become the laughing stock of Sivan and his gang and the violence would have been repeated.
I think about it a lot, but in the end I have no other solutions, I take the courage in my hands and I go to talk with our little prefect (the one of engineering), who listens to me, he’s frightened above all by the idea that I go to speak with the Rector, and it’s evident, he tries to reassure me and then we come to a compromise that I never expected from him but that, at the same time, put me safe and exposed me to the worst insults from my classmates. In practice, the prefect would have slept in my dormitory bed and I in his, in his locked room. This whole thing happened, obviously without the true prefect of the college knowing anything about it and the boys had to tolerate everything, if they had not done so, what they had done to me would come out. Then, to keep quiet my comrades, who would kill me, I ended up accepting that the little prefect would come to sleep in his little room too. Of course, afterwards, my comrades considered me just as a whore.
About the engineering little prefect I heard the worst things: that he undressed the boys, was competing with them to see who had the biggest dick and used to beat them to get sexual performances and similar things and some guys swore it was true and that it had happened to them, but the little prefect, with me had never tried such things.
One day, while I was in his room I start to rummage and between the mattress and the bed base I find a package with some letters, I read them, they are directed to a guy but they are love letters and also hot. I think then that all my comrades say about him is true and I start to be afraid.
And here I did something I'm still ashamed of today, I told one of my comrades about the little prefect’s letters, and he tried to push me to steal the letters to have him in hand and maybe to take them secretly to the Rector. I didn’t do this thing, it seemed infamous and then I liked the little prefect and I didn’t want him to be fired or maybe I wanted to have him in my hand. But now another boy knew about the letters and soon everyone would know and the letters would have been stolen by others, then I entered the little prefect’s room, I took them, and I hid them somewhere else (in church).
When the little prefect came back I said I had to talk to him and I told him that the boys knew about his letters, I saw him paling at that thought, but I also told him that I had made the letters disappear and that they were hidden in a safe place, where no one would find them. He wanted them back but I didn’t give them to him and I told him I had read them. He looked at me petrified but I told him that he had nothing to fear because he had behaved well with me, then I told him about all the things I had heard about him and asked him if they were true. He admitted having done some sex games with the boys but only consensual things and he swore it to me. I told him about what Silvan and his gang had done to me and he told me that they didn’t do it for sex but only to inflict a terrible humiliation on another boy, and then he asked me if I liked guys, I thought about it and I honestly replied that I didn’t know it and he told me: What a pity! Then he realized that he had said something stupid and apologized and after many hesitations asked me where the letters were and I told him but I asked him to leave them there because they were safe, maybe he could go and see that there they really were, but I wanted him to leave them there and he did so.
The story of the little prefect however ended badly and perhaps it was my fault. The boy to whom I had talked about the letters, went to report the matter to the Rector. The little prefect denied everything, I was called as a witness, I swore the false and said that my comrade had invented everything. The facts were not proven, but the Rector didn’t want to know reasons and the little prefect was kicked out, or rather removed for reasons of opportunity, a few months before his graduation exams. Before he left, he secretly took up the letters and warned me that he had taken them.
The new prefect was an emeritus imbecile. In the last months before the exams I suffered from the gang of Silvan harassment and violence of all kinds, and this time, since they had to avenge on me that I had been the "favorite of the fag" I really suffered sexual violence by Silvan and another boy. [- omissis -] The feeling of repulsion was total, I will not tell you how I felt after, I still carry inside myself the memory of that scene because that was not sex but only violence like the beasts and even worse. My classmates were 14 years old and in the end I cannot hate them or wish them death, because they didn’t even understand what they were doing.
In short, afterwards I was obsessed with those memories for decades and my sex life was ruined. The memory of the little prefect instead was positive, then I understood: he was really a gay guy, and I liked him well, he had not behaved like an asshole, but the idea that I could be gay just because of the violent initiation I suffered, ruined my life. I'm not married and I don’t have a partner, I'm alone, and absurd as it seems, gay sex seems repugnant to me, but I don’t know, don’t really know, if this happens because of the violence suffered, but I think so.
Anyone who uses sexual violence on another person kills that person inside, kills the dignity, the certainties of that person, dirties his/her sexuality forever. The boys should receive a serious education and learn the true respect of others, but unfortunately, even if fifty years have passed, we are still very far from all this.
Thanks Project, at least I vented a bit.
|
|
|
|
| UNPREDICTABLE GAY RELATIONSHIPS |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 02-05-2018, 12:13 PM - Forum: Gay seniors
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
I am almost 70 years old and I still like to read your forum. I need such things to feel alive and in touch with the world after us. At my age, I can say that I have learned many things and above all one, that our time is short and we must not waste it running behind things more or less absurd, the only thing that makes sense to life is to try to make better other people.
For a gay, of course, it is essential to have a positive function for other gays, being always available to give them help, if needed. Obviously there is a time for each thing, and those of our age, if they don’t want to end up in ridicule, must understand that their role is not to compete with young people, but to facilitate the way of young people, through adequate behaviors: first of all avoiding to judge, then always telling the truth and knowing how to stay in place.
Falling in love with a guy is one thing, and it's good for young people, but care about a guy it’s possible at all ages. I saw it in my personal experience: you have to sow something good, without thinking of seeing the results. Probably the results will be there even if we may not see them.
And then, I learned something else, the guys, all the guys and the gay ones in particular, feel a strong need to have around a family-like atmosphere, but not in the sense of prohibitions, advices or judgments, but in the sense of non-judgmental presences, of simple but unconditional affections.
Project, I'm older than you and I have a lot of melancholy on my mind, because now that I start to understand just a little bit how things work, I realize I'm coming to the end of my time and I think that all the experience that I accumulated may not serve any purpose, however, Project, even if I'm old, I feel serene, because I have my affections and I feel paid, there are guys who love me, they are two gay guys (a couple ) that I have met entirely by chance, they are more or less 30 years old, and a beautiful relationship was born among us. Obviously I don’t have to be too present because I would be invasive, they call me every week and more or less every week we go together to have a pizza, in practice they have adopted me.
I'm fine with them, I feel like I was in my family, a bit like a dad who is a widower and tries to move on as he can, but has two children who love him. I never imagined that in old age I could have a similar experience, but I assure you that these are things that fill life, give it meaning and make old age an acceptable thing.
I had read on your forum of a gentleman of our generation who was in a situation similar to mine (but I was not able to find that post), he talked about relationships similar to family ones that can be created in a way completely unexpected and that, perhaps in a minor tone, can create something like a real family, because they create a solidarity.
Of course, perhaps, in a family between parents and children there is mutual support (and perhaps so often there isn’t even that) because the ages of parents and children are less distant, but in fact, with my guys (I call them so) I have a good relationship: they care about me not only for my needs, so to say, daily, like going shopping and picking up my pension at the post office, but they also call me without a specific reason, but just for the pleasure of talking a little with me, at least I see it that way.
I am afraid of one thing: the possibility of losing my personal autonomy and practically "forcing" (not for my will, but out of necessity) these guys to take care of me, I think they would do it, but for them it would be a very heavy bond. However, I try not to think about it and to be comfortable with them as if I were their age.
I'm sorry to have to go out from this world right now that I was starting to feel good: I have a thousand ailments of age, also heavy ones, sometimes physically I'm right on the ground and I don’t know what to expect from the future, even in the short term, but I also have some real affections, completely unexpected, I don’t become young again for this and I have to keep all my illnesses, but I don’t feel alone, I also have real affections, I know they are there and they will stay with me until the end, and then when I see that they are well together, are calm, plan the future ... well ... I feel deeply comforted.
In short, strange and unpredictable things happen in life, which sometimes change your life for the better, even when you don’t expect it anymore. Well, I greet you, Project! Even when you're old, you can feel good, at least on an emotional level, when you're not really alone.
James from Bologna.
|
|
|
|
| A GAY GUY LOOKING FOR NAKED GUYS IN THE LOCKER ROOM |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 01-30-2018, 07:58 PM - Forum: Gays and sex
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
I am a normal gay guy 25 years old (recently) but, I say immediately I have never had sexual intercourses with anyone, neither with a girl nor with a guy. Nevertheless I feel a very strong sexual attraction, there are guys to whom I tried to make it clear that I was interested in them, but obviously or they were not gay, or, if they were, they were not interested in me. So I've not even had a real emotional relationship with a guy.
All my sex life, since I was 14, is dominated by pornography. When I was very young I spent hours and hours watching porn videos online, sometimes I stayed up all night for this, I had a collection of sites that I visited often, practically every day. Masturbation had become at the same time my only pleasure and my obsession, I masturbated two or three times every day, then I thought I was a pathological case because I did not have a girlfriend and masturbated so much on gay videos.
Time has passed, a lot of psychological complexes don’t even exist anymore, that is, I don’t have problems for my desires, I try to realize them and that's it. Pornography always dominates the picture but now I use it a lot more selectively, there are some actors that I like a lot and also some content that doesn’t attract me at all, like anal penetration. I have nothing against those who practice it and consider it pleasant, but frankly such things never went through my head, it seems strange to me that I find it everywhere, in practice in all gay videos. Perhaps this is another anomaly of mine.
Six months ago a new adventure began. I, who had never crossed the entrance of a swimming pool or a of gym because I was afraid of getting excited and having to run away literally with my tail between my legs, I began to go to the pool three times a week just to stay in a sporting environment all masculine in which nudity was a common sight.
In fact, when I go to the swimming pool, in the changing rooms and in the showers I always see so many guys completely naked, even if the environment has something erotic just for me. I see clearly that for others the thing is totally indifferent. So many guys stay naked in the locker room for a very long time, they chat with others and even with me completely naked, they come closer, because for them all this doesn’t create any problem. They do not even feel embarrassed for a half erection or an almost complete one. Everything is covered by an atmosphere of male solidarity that for them has nothing erotic.
I don’t know if it makes sense to go to the pool for the reasons why I go there, but I really like to go there, it is in practice the only opportunity to get sexually excited without using pornography, watching real guys, and some are really very nice. I chose the times of my attendance so I can meet the guys I like the most.
But there is a situation that affects me a lot, sometimes I hear the guys talking to each other, they talk about work, study and even about their girls, well, they don’t seem at all conditioned by sex like me, for them their girlfriends are a bit the other half of their lives, not an eminently sexual interest, for them sex is not an obsession, or so it seems. I would very much like to talk to these guys but I never do, because sooner or later they would ask me about my girlfriend and I should answer by telling a lie.
Then there is another half obsession that I carry with me every time a new guy arrives and is to imagine how he has it (you understand what), I try to imagine it and at the same time I try in every way to see that guy naked to verify if I had guessed. I'll look like a maniac, Project, but the association of a beautiful body with a nice (you understand what) seems to me the best. However, often, beautiful guys, those with a superlative physique, from that particular point of view are not really so beautiful. Obviously all these images and these situations stored in my brain, when I come back home, become material to fantasize about during my endless masturbations.
Project, I want to stress that I'm not bad about all these things, maybe it happened years ago, but today it doesn’t happen anymore, I know that my life is this, maybe there will be sooner or later a guy in my life, I hope so but I'm not sure, but for many years still the pool will certainly be there. I fantasize often about those guys, about what we could do together, even if I know very well that nothing like that will ever happen.
In particular I like one called Alex, or for friends Al, I build on him a lot of mental novels, or rather of novels full of sex. I imagine that we are lovers, that we are accomplices and that he has fallen in love with me, I dream of having him with me in my bedroom, I dream of undressing him off while he wants to get undressed and encourages me, I get excited even now just thinking about it, because he's beautiful, I dream that we embrace each other naked and touch each other everywhere and each of us holds the (you understand what) of the other in his hand and then you can imagine the rest. It is now three weeks that these scenes accompany all or almost all my masturbations.
If I could have Al I would not look for anyone else. And the crucial point is that I don’t have a generic physical idea of him, I know everything about him, but really everything: I know how he has it (you understand what), but also how he gets a hard on and in what situations, I know where he has a small mole, right in a very intimate place, in short I know everything about how he’s made physically, only he's not in love with me but with his girlfriend ... and for me there are only the fantasies and the beautiful images that I bring with me printed indelibly in my brain.
Once he and another guy made a sexual joke to another guy, one of their friends, they were all naked and the scene was beautiful, they laughed and played just like children, with the utmost naturalness. I guess I'll never forget that scene!
Is all this normal, Project? Is it normal for a guy 25 y. o. to do what I do? Will I ever meet a guy like Al who can truly fall in love with me? I'm not a beautiful guy, but I'm not bad either, the trouble is that only girls fall in love with me and some of them try to involve me in a very provocative way. Maybe I take refuge in the pool to escape from the siege of the girls, who take for granted that I should fall in love with them.
Now I leave you. If you send me your skype contact, we can talk a bit.
Andrew
|
|
|
|
| A GAY GUY AND A GAY ELDER ADOPT EACH OTHER |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 01-27-2018, 06:49 PM - Forum: Gay orientation
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
it was nice to meet you, I discovered an aspect of the gay world that I didn’t even suspect and I liked the non-ideological setting of your Project.
I’m here to tell you about something that is happening to me now and that last year I would have considered absolutely impossible.
I’m an old man and, for better or for worse, I lived my life. For me, the word gay is more a matter of principle related to membership and sharing than anything else. I have so many health problems that the idea of sex doesn’t even touch me, and this has been happening for years now. And here I come to the point.
If sexuality identifies with sexual relations, well, I would say that the time of the end-of-season discounts has already ended, in practice sex in that sense, by now, is a memory and I wouldn’t even regret it. If instead the word sexuality mainly (in practice exclusively) means affectivity, then I can say I'm still gay, because the company of men and guys, or rather I would say of gay men and gay guys, is still a pleasant thing for me, even if sex, in the specific sense of the word, has little or nothing to do with it. What I like is the fact that there is a common ground, that they understand the meaning of my life and my choices because they are basically similar to theirs.
I read your articles on intergenerational relationships, which, I must say, are very interesting, even if I don’t recognize myself in the things you describe because I think I've never fallen in love with people much younger than me and frankly I didn’t even believe that a serious emotional relationship could be created without concrete sexual implications.
Then a few months ago I accidentally met a guy of 19, yes, you understood well, 50 less than mine, I also struggle to remember exactly how and when we met, but it happened in ordinary life, because I never attend gay clubs or places like that. With that guy I talked for a quarter of an hour at most, but there was an incredible feeling, before leaving he asked me the number of my cell phone, I was reluctant to give it to him, but then I gave it to him, and frankly I thought that for him it was a matter of pure courtesy, but it was not so.
Since then we have been on the phone every day. He told me so many things about his life and I had no reason to think that they were not true, then he slowly told me that he was gay and that I was the first person to whom he confided such things. Of course I told him clearly that I was gay too. Then he told me that he fell in love with one of his teachers and at this point I was afraid he might fall in love with me, but such a thing didn’t seem absolutely realistic to me. I went to reread your articles on intergenerational relationships and asked myself a thousand questions. But it was obvious that the guy was in love with his teacher, I, for him, represented essentially a chance for relief.
Our daily phone calls lasted for months now, they are very serious, we never talk about sex but almost always about the future, about prospects for study and work. He no longer has his parents, both died several years ago, when he was very young, and he grew up in the family of a brother of his father, who already had his own children.
In short, I think we should add another category to gay relationships, that of "father-son relationships by mutual choice".
Talking with this guy has given a new meaning to my life, has allowed me not to close myself in my melancholy and to still serve something. I think our relationship is important to him too. He is a very affectionate and also very determined guy. Not having had a family in the classic sense of the term has also made him free from the heavy conditioning that a gay guy interested in mature men can suffer in the years of adolescence and early youth.
The fact that I am gay, for him, is very reassuring. We talk every day about the stories he is experiencing now, stories that seem to me very similar, apart from the age target, to those that I lived many years ago. He asks me about my life and I tell him how things went. He almost remains incredulous to hear about the isolation of gay guys 50 years ago. Sometimes we talk about history and politics and I see that he has that freedom instinct typical of gays. There is only one discourse that absolutely he doesn’t want to hear from me and it is the one about old age (mine) and death. He’s continually looking for affective reassurance. Between us we have created a very nice relationship, which now doesn’t make me problems as in the earliest times, because I realize that my presence is family-like and doesn’t interfere in any way with his sexual life.
The generational gap, understood as communication difficulties, doesn’t even exist between us, except on something that I will talk about later. A true family bond has been created which is very beautiful and almost incredible. Next year he will be at the university! We talked about it a lot, even if my memories of the university date back to the Stone Age. He’s oriented towards scientific studies but is still uncertain among Physics, Astronomy and Mathematics.
There is only one field where I cannot stand him (of course, just to say) and it's his crazy passion for technology. He continually urges me to get a smartphone leaving aside my 10 year old cellphone and tells me amazing things about applications that I will never know how to download, and even less how to use. Apart from this "technological" side where I feel the generational gap, for the rest there is no problem.
I would say that our relationship has created a real gay family, not in the sense of a gay couple, but a relationship between a gay father and a gay son. I know that no one ever imagines a "gay family" in the sense of "father-son" family and yet it is precisely what happens to us. I know very well that I will never be his boyfriend, but this seems absolutely obvious and natural to me. I don’t feel any sexual attraction towards him and I think that he doesn’t feel at all such feelings for me. We love each other in another way, but I think that somehow we are still a family.
|
|
|
|
| GAY GUYS SEARCHING FOR TENDERNESS |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 01-27-2018, 11:08 AM - Forum: Gay guys
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
we already had the chance to meet in person last summer, you made me have a wonderful tour of the city of Rome with two other guys, and it was a really important experience for me. Today I contact you again to tell you the latest news. It's amazing how things can change quickly! When you're 30, you feel like finished, you think no one can ever be interested in you, or at least no one you are interested in, and you think so because you have a particular way of being gay, that you think unique, and then, all of a sudden you are faced with another guy ... Let's start from here.
You had seen my blog, Project, you liked it, but many people considered it stupid, almost childish: a collection of thoughts and even photos of landscapes and animals. You told me that there was nothing explicitly gay and I wanted it to be so, it was neutral at least apparently neutral.
One day, when I come back from work, I open the blog and find a series of “like”, all of the same person, they are many and are not random, at least that's how it seems. I don’t know who the anonymous commentator is, the nick is neutral, neither male nor female, the comments are short and it’s impossible to understand the gender of the author, I think it could be a girl, because from my blog it’s clear that I am a guy, so I avoid answering, both by email and commenting in turn the comments. I feel a minimum of pride but then I say to myself that it’s always better not to delude oneself.
The following day I find other comments from the same person, also completely neutral. I’m tempted to answer at least one and I do so, even in a very neutral way, but insisting on the idea that the fundamental thing is to love each other and that there are a thousand ways to love. The message was deliberately a little ambiguous.
The day after that person had added another comment, only one, and obviously answered what I had written the day before. The comment this time, however, was about twenty lines long and it was a comment with which I felt very consonant, but there was a feature that I could not explain, speaking of love relationships the author used systematically "he/she", A very uncommon use, but also this time the message didn’t allow to understand the gender of the author.
In short, it began in this way an exchange of messages on the blog that went on for about twenty days, they were serious messages and all neutral and strictly with that strange "he/she" that I couldn’t understand.
Then we decided to go to exchange emails, first through the blog and then just exchanging addresses directly. Our mails were very prudent and formal: mutual respect, never intervene on the counterattack, always education, but also a progressively less reticent sincerity. I was fascinated by that person who, knowing only that I was a 30-year-old guy (the only information that could be deduced from my blog), continued to build an increasingly important dialogue with me.
After a couple of months of "neutral" mails one day he wrote me these words: "I would like to have a dialogue with you without reservation but I fear that you might not take it well and this holds me back." I asked him why and he replied: "because maybe you think I'm a girl, but I'm a 26-year-old guy who has found so much tenderness on your blog." I replied in just a few minutes: "I'm so happy you're a guy! This exchange of emails is extremely beautiful and important for me!"
The dialogue went on like this for another week, then he wrote to me: "To the point where we are I cannot hide the thing that could be the most embarrassing: I'm gay and I dreamed so much to meet a guy like you. Don’t stay bad, please."
I replied: "I'm gay too! And I'm so happy to meet you! I think it's clear enough now that neither you nor I have a boyfriend, it would seem like a fairytale but there is a very huge problem, we don’t know each other personally and many castles in the air could collapse if we meet in person, that's why we need to be very cautious."
He replies that he thought a lot about it but that there is also another problem: "we could live perhaps a thousand kilometers from each other, so in the meantime I tell you that I am from the province of Milan." I tell him that I’m exactly in Milan, and so we combine our first meeting in Piazza Duomo.
On the appointed day I’m there a quarter of an hour before, I put myself on the agreed point, which he knew well, and I wait. At 16.00 o'clock he appears with the agreed recognition signal: a large envelope of a well-known shop of Milan. I recognize him immediately, he smiles and approaches me, he's really a handsome guy. I smile at him too, the embarrassment is great, after the first pleasantries I ask him: "Are you disappointed?" He replies: "Not at all! And you?" I smile and say: "You're beautiful!"
He explains that he comes from (omissis) a small town 30 minutes by train from the central station of Milan, and that he lives a few steps from the train station of his town. In practice it is as if he lived in a district of Milan. All this seems extremely positive.
We go around the city, it's a terrible cold, we enter a department store to warm up. He still studies and studies in Milan at the Polytechnic, so he comes to city center every day. I tell him that I work in the office of an accountant and I hope sooner or later to have one of my own, even if it seems very unlikely.
We study the timetable of our commitments and it turns out that from Monday to Friday we can have dinner together two nights: Tuesday and Thursday, not at my house because the times and schedules of the trains don’t allow it, but in a pizzeria enough easy to reach for both of us. But he can spend the Saturday afternoons at my house (I rented a small apartment of 30 square meters effective). On Sundays we can instead spend all the day together from morning to night. He cannot sleep at my house because he lives with his family and his parents are very suspicious and they fear he has "a girlfriend" in the city.
I can tell you, Project, that I didn’t imagine being able to find a guy so similar to me. We spend the whole Sunday in bed together, a narrow bed but enough for us. At first we exchanged only cuddles, even intimate ones, but only pampering, so to speak, nothing dangerous. Then we did the HIV test, even if it was absolutely the first time both for him and for me and now we take some more freedom, but among us there is no craving for sex, when we feel the desire of it, then ok, and it's really beautiful, but sometimes we stay in bed to cuddle and it's beautiful all the same. Some Sundays we were together outside Milan to see places that we didn’t know, other times we went to visit museums.
I don’t know whether to say that he is my boyfriend, because in fact he is a bit a lover, a bit a brother and a bit another myself. I try to make him feel good because he is about to finish his studies and they are difficult studies, so he must stay calm as much as possible.
Once I went to wait for him at the exit of the university, I saw him come with his bag full of books, with his padded jacket, the light trousers perfectly ironed and with the gold goggles, he looked more like a wearer than an engineer, some girls have stopped him, maybe to exchange notes of the lessons but maybe not only for that, those girls are enchanted by him because he is charming and has a smile that tears your soul, some of those girls, perhaps, fell in love with him. I stand on the sidelines without showing myself, I wait for him to be alone, then when he’s alone I approach him and take the heavy bag from his hands. I would kiss him there, in front of everyone, but we cannot and then we just exchange a smile.
I'm happy, Project, my world has really changed. Since his first comment on my blog, more than six months have passed and the more time passes, the more my certainty that no one can separate us is reinforced. It's not a fable, Project, it's all extraordinarily true!
Paul
|
|
|
|
| GAY GUYS LOOKING FOR A BOYFRIEND IN CHAT |
|
Posted by: gayprojectforum - 01-18-2018, 01:30 PM - Forum: True gay stories
- No Replies
|
|
Hi Project,
I really arrived at the limit. I know that the whole story is at the limit of the incredible and that from the outside it seems a total absurdity, and yet it is a real story. In all it lasted a month, fortunately only a month.
A month or so ago, I enter a chat, where I see the profile of a guy I liked enough, and I contact him. We talk a bit of this and that, then, you know how these things work, we exchanged a bit of photos, but serious photos, no nude or something. He was really a nice guy, let's say that I had never found one so much complying with my standards (which are not at all easy). We start talking, because I want to understand what he thinks of me, if he thinks it can be done and he tells me that I'm beautiful, which is not really true at all, but he says so all the same and I feel deeply flattered. We talk for hours. He is very attentive to my reactions, he is not the usual rough guy you can find in some chats like that, he treats me well and I also treat him well and above all we don’t talk about sex, and in certain situations it is very rare and a sign of seriousness. When we go to sleep it’s almost dawn and I am very happy to have met him and I begin to dream that at last my loneliness is over. We arranged to meet in chat the next evening. We talk again very pleasantly, he calls me Cucciolo (Puppy), he tells me a lot of nice and tender things and I start doing the same with him. Then I come to the fundamental question: "Where are you from?" And he tells me he's from Milan, my city! I jump for joy and ask him if we can meet, he replies enthusiastically that he too cannot wait to meet me. We fix the first appointment for the following Saturday night. I begin to fantasize, meanwhile we talk every night by chat and the wait grows day by day. I cannot wait to meet him! Saturday afternoon comes, I take a long shower, then I put on a pair of new underwear ... you never know, I shave well, I dress as he said he liked me and I go to the appointment. He was already there, we recognize each other, we embrace. I was radiant like the sun and he was really beautiful in person. His eyes were laughing. We start walking, we decide to go to have a pizza. We go to a pizzeria out of the way, we sit down at a table where we can talk. The speeches are exactly those made in chat, he tells me that I'm beautiful, I tell him that he is just my ideal guy, then we start talking about something else: politics, nutrition, and we get along pretty much about everything, he thinks almost like me. I begin to believe that in the evening we will end up making love somewhere. The hours pass and nothing happens. Eventually I found the courage to ask him if he was disappointed after meeting me in person. He tells me: "Are you kidding? I think I'm in love with you!" I calm down and we say goodbye by giving us an appointment in chat for the next day, to see each other newly the following Saturday. I come home and I get a text message: "Puppy !! You're the best thing in my life !! "I answer him with an incredible enthusiasm. All my depressions and melancholies had gone away and I felt happy, not only I felt loved, but loved by a guy whom I also loved to madness. Throughout the week, between very tender text messages and chats I melt more and more and I prepare for our second meeting, I think that this second meeting should have ended with something sexual. We arrive on Saturday night. He appears with a small parcel, I look at him with a perplexed face. He tells me: "Open, it's for you! But only a half ... "I don’t know what to think. I open and inside there are two little wedding rings, he puts one on my finger and I put the other on his, then we kiss, but there are people and we have to get back down to earth. We go to the pizzeria. I was literally enthusiastic, I could not wait to get out of the pizzeria and be alone in the car with him, because, given those premises, I expected a little sex, but he tells me that he is too upset and that he don’t feels like it. He accompanies me to my house and we say goodbye. I was a bit puzzled. I ask him when we would meet again, he tells me that he will call me during the week. Well ... you understand how it ended, during the week he didn’t call at all, I call him, he is always very sweet with words but he tells me that next Saturday he cannot, but the speech no longer had the enthusiastic tones of the first times in the chat. I insist a lot to see him at least for a coffee during the week. We fix the appointment for Wednesday, I am there but he doesn’t come. I call him. He tells me he's at work. I call him in the evening but the phone is disconnected. I go to the chat and he's there ... I call him but he doesn’t even answer me, he's obviously busy. And there I made two plus two four and I said to myself: "He found another guy!" The next day I wait for him at his home, when he goes out to go to work, when he sees me he tries to change course, I block him, I ask him what happened, if there is another guy. He says no and that the fact is that he does not like me physically and that he cannot do anything about it. I ask him if he wants us to remain friends, he tells me it's better not. I take off my wedding ring and give it back to him, then I turn around and leave. I come home and start looking at myself in the mirror to try and figure out what's wrong with my appearance. I have a lot of physical defects, I'm not the handsome classic cover guy but I'm not even to throw away. I feel really emptied, I feel like crying, more for angry than for loneliness. I try to call one of my ex to talk a bit, I know that he loves me and he will listen to me, and it happens even this time, but I'm neurotic, impulsive, I treat him badly even if he doesn’t deserve it and I close the call abruptly. Fortunately, there is my job, a very disgusting job, but still a distraction that helps me not to think, but I always remember the scene of the wedding rings, but why that guy made me believe he was in love with me? Or maybe I'm so stupid that I think one can fall in love with me just for a picture and for a week of chat. But he didn’t have the slightest respect. And then ... the wedding ring, maybe it could be the same that he had given to his previous boyfriend. I felt disgusted, and I made a decision, I contacted a very serious gay association and I looked for a psychologist, I made an appointment and I went there and I felt good. An old man who has always looked after gays and who knows what it is. I think I did a good thing. Then I called my ex and we talked a little, I felt he was happy to talk to me. Then I said to myself: "I have to take my life back in my hands! Enough with the chats!" And that's what I'm doing now. Sometimes receiving a blow can do well too!
If you like, publish the email. I am attaching my skype, if you want to talk a bit.
Lucio (even if it is not my true name, everyone calls me so)
|
|
|
|
|
