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Some decades ago, I went to school with this then boy and we became confidante'es. I felt safe only with a few people back then and, he was one of them.
Due to multiple moves which none of us had any control over; we lost contact.
I emigrated eventually, after a long spell of depression and suicidal thoughts. (not because of him)
Eventually he thought to seek me out and found me. I had never had any amorous feelings towards him - only deep friendship. Now, on meeting up again; I fancied him. Perhaps it was the safety in what I thought was familiarity. Perhaps I thought that, because of our pasts, we would understand each other and allow each other to finally be free to be.
Now, all that seem like a wishful illusion (from both our sides).
Now, it seems like I'm representing everything that's gone wrong in his life even though he has made impressively amasing steps towards an independent and strong living.
I don't resent that. I admire it. But I also wish he would admire my accomplishments, which have nothing to do with money or other superficial things that you don't have time to enjoy.
I don't know why he can't respect me for what I do: writing, doing charity gigs, talking to strangers... I try talk to him but he over-voice me. I hate raised voices and he knows that. I try talk about my day and he changes the subject. The only time he seems happy is, when I don't respond or comment on what he says. If I do, we end up in a stale mate: He goes out of the room and sulks for a couple of days.
We live in separate countries, so the time we have together (and I do not have the money to travel to him more than perhaps once every other month) - that time should be prescious. Yet, it is difficult to make it prescious when he refuses to communicate in between my 'visits'.
He says he wants my love but I think it's more of a physical need than a mental need. I am struggling to refuse anti-depressants because, I believe the problem lies with the relationship and not by some chemical imbalance. I might, of course, have gotten it all wrong; misinterpreted and mis-analysed... I don't want to give up on the romantic dream that someone actually searched and found me. Question is: Did he find the me that he thought I would be. Clinging onto him just beggars for mental abuse and, yes, there have been a lot of 'put-downs', a few sorry's..
I would really appreciate some male takes on this
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