I kept nothing of you, no photos or gifts, nothing that could come back to hurt. I deleted even that beautiful photo that I jealously kept for myself, the one you used on dating apps, where you definitely came out at your best, the same one that you also deleted from your profiles, because you could see your face clearly, maybe to hide when you still log into the apps, to look for who knows what, maybe something that underneath you still miss, but that is definitely no longer my business to understand.
I associated a song with my first and last ex, and one day while driving home I happened to hear the one that from now on will be associated with you. Secretly, by Skunk Anansie really speaks so much about us, about that secrecy in which we both felt most comfortable, about finding ourselves in bed with someone and wanting more, in that “You had to do someone else” I hear all the anger of realizing that in fact I for you was an interlude, a teaching, but not someone to stop for.
We met on a dark evening in late October, in a bar on the Valsugana, open 24/7, that served rather disgusting cicchetti and used too much detergent to clean the tables, making them so annoyingly sticky. Of that day I will remember your height, and especially your kindness. I will remember the stories about your ex, who after 5 years now constituted a throw-away relationship (so you told her, yet you were afraid to let her go).
However, it was not long before you decided that things were over; I remember the fact that I was not particularly happy because I perceived you as an enigma, difficult to interpret.
Then our first meeting on my bed swept away everything, every restraint, every uncertainty, when I saw myself reflected in your eyes I felt as if suddenly I had found a safe haven, and your arms had become a bit of a home for me. I remember we both said to each other, “I’ve never hugged someone like you!”…there was such hunger in those hugs and on both sides a strong craving for affection.
An unhealthy routine had set in, I was unsure, and you gave no security…I saw you as a loose cannon ready to explode, like any guy who decides to experience the world of gay dating for the first time… in fact you are like a child discovering a new world, or more precisely a drug addict on his first doses, it’s hard to find a balance, especially when behind you you have years of lies to work off, whole years in which you’ve been running with the brakes on and not allowed to fully look at and experience the world around you.
I remember you always writing me first, looking for me, and I was enjoying that attention and that heady taste of newness.
I also remember the first day when I realized that things had changed for me, we hadn’t seen each other for two weeks and I missed you and started looking for information about you online. It was that hidden curiosity that made me realize that you were no longer indifferent to me. I decided that I would tell you about it. That I would get back in the game after 7 years since my first and only love (which had been nothing but pain).
We got in touch to meet over the weekend–and I in the meantime was thinking about what to tell you, how to tell you that I wanted to risk putting my heart on the line again.
Collapsed all day before we saw each other, I remember it was as good a Friday as any, I went into the app where we had first heard from each other to delete the account and explain to you that I was ready to take the necessary steps to get our relationship together off to a good start. I visited your profile one last time and what I read left me shocked.
That bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, that mixture of dismay, disappointment, and betrayal left me petrified to read a “review” of an encounter you had had the week before. You had been to a man to get a blowjob in passing. This left me deeply disturbed … yet I decided not to listen to that feeling. I told myself that I had enough experience to let it go, that you were obviously exploring the world around you. I decided that sooner or later you would see me as the ideal partner and pretended that things could go on even so. Today I know, that was my biggest mistake. To have said nothing, to have asked nothing, to let things slide, perhaps because in that difficult year, full of stress and the first panic attacks I had ever experienced in my life, even a piece of the sunshine you represented to me was fine.
Summer vacation passed, I came back and you were gone-I decided to wait. After a month of silence I wrote to you….
you were sick but didn’t explain why. I felt something was wrong, but I was in withdrawal, from you. We saw each other again at my house, and as we drank the usual beer in company accompanied by the usual rice cakes, I found out what had happened to you.
You had fallen in love with a young entrepreneur, married to a woman for two years, who for obvious reasons spent too much time in gay apps and for obvious reasons could not reciprocate your feeling.
We all go through it sooner or later, they are mistakes in a system that has to do with self-knowledge, the courage to be yourself, the culture of a world that is too wrong, and personal choices. They are loose cannons who, if you are not scouted enough, will only hurt you, because they have unclear ideas, they are looking for escape from a prison built by themselves and the society they live in, and when they come out they have little certainty and a lot of desire to escape.
For me there it was over, I was drinking too much bitter beer and I was aware of it. It was supposed to be a farewell meeting … instead to cheer you up I started making jokes about the atmosphere that can be created in the bedroom and in between we ended up back on my bed with you hugging me and holding me tight. There, at that very moment, I realized that I was completely screwed.
About four months passed, you were letting go of the toxic story you had gotten into, and I kept hoping that by staying close to you you would finally see me. I began to ask myself questions about what I liked about you, besides your physical appearance of course–and I realized that your character reminded me terribly of my father’s, so kind but so indecisive and flighty. By now you had become so much a part of my routine that even in the moments of autoeroticism I was no longer alone, I was thinking of you even in those moments-I really hoped.
You had finally let go of the previous affair, there was a precarious balance, I thought, however, that things would work out, putting a little more patience, letting go of your string, trusting the positive feeling I was feeling. I invited you to the cinema on a March afternoon this year. It was before the movie viewing began that I learned that you had fallen in love again, this time with a boy your age, this time for real, this time with someone who really loved you.
I decided to smile, and wish you the best. You could not see me, you could not see my intentions, you could not sense my loving you. There was only one thing to do, let go.
I cried for the first time for you as I walked the road back, saw the bar again where we had first met, and resigned myself to having lost you.
On May 7 I got a message from you, as if nothing had happened, you had not noticed anything at all, you went on, knowing that I was there anyway. It was at that moment that, unable to carry on any longer with that little theater that was only hurting me, I wrote you that I loved you too, that I had been waiting for you, and that I had to move away.
I accepted the pain of defeat, and decided to run no more from that storm that had come upon me. I realized it was time to face it and stop trying to understand.
Months have passed since that moment, the tears have given way to the smiles of those who have always been by my side, summer has warmed my heart that had been locked in a cold winter, and I must say that I am finally beginning to feel like I am finally back to being myself. I regained my confidence despite the fact that for a long time I had felt inadequate, “not enough,” devalued. You were always choosing something else.
I stopped wondering for what absurd reason I find you logged in every day on certain dating apps, or what is the reason for what happened, I only know that you did not see me, three times, while I was there waiting for you. I stopped waiting and accepted that maybe you didn’t like me enough, there were places I wanted to show you and so many other things I wanted to tell you. I’ll keep them to myself, waiting for someone to come along who wants to hear those stories and in that great, small, sea of people that runs through our lives, choose me.