Michel* has had three crushes in his life. Three women with whom he experienced happy, fulfilling, explosive sexuality at three times in his life. Now the last one is seriously ill. From being a lover, he is now a caregiver. And it’s not going to get better.
“I’m in need, we’re not going to lie,” our interlocutor, a well-rounded 70-year-old, ends up confiding after an hour of recounting his life, its ups and downs, its ups and its (painful) downs.
It must be said that our interlocutor felt strangely challenged by the recent testimony of a certain François*, struggling with great and shameful “sexual loneliness”.
“I felt like I was the one who wrote it,” the man with the camera tells us, in a virtual interview from his remote location. “I saw myself. » If he experiences similar solitude, he draws completely different conclusions from his situation. We remember that Francis saw no light, only distress in his painful state. Not Michel.
Michel started his sex life late, after being attacked by a relative at 14 years old. “It wasn’t healthy. Certainly I was disturbed. But I put that in a box. No choice… “
At the time, we didn’t talk about these things. And then he waits until he’s 20 before his first “regular friend,” as he calls her. A few uneventful courtships follow, before falling in with his very first and great crush, the mother of his children. He is in his mid-twenties, and their affair will last 35 years.
He says it repeatedly, throughout his checkered story.
“It was a great love,” he says, “and we were very active for 20 years. » They made love several times a week and “nourished” their intimacy a lot. “All the time,” he said, “we paid for activities and babysitters. » His philosophy: “as long as the couple lasts, the family lasts”. “We grew up together,” he sums up with a smile.
As proof: for their 10th wedding anniversary, they offered each other “an exchange,” says Michel. “In a bar, I offered her a man, she a woman. » And they each went their separate ways. At the end of the adventure, they asked themselves: “How did you find the exercise? Loved it. We repeat ? No ! » Period, he says, laughing.
“And our sexuality took off again. » Subsequently, they actually repeated the experience once a year, “but together,” he specifies. Just to say. It gave a renewal.”
Then, after 20 years of living together, he agrees, “the routine set in […], the responsibilities, the work…” Until, at the end of his fifties, his partner died suddenly of a serious health accident.
“It spanks in the dash…” His face darkens on the screen. Michel spends a long winter alone, until his daughters shake him: “It’s enough”, and he finds himself registered on a dating site.
A year later, our “young widower” bounces back: “My second love at first sight,” he smiles again. Madame is 10 years younger than him, “she’s beautiful.” He still remembers it: as soon as they got home, their clothes would disappear “like in the movies.” “Sex could last 10, 11, 12 hours!” he marvels. “It was bloodless. I loved that period.” Then, without warning, the reality of their age gap catches up with him. “We weren’t in the same place.” So they separate. It’s the end of a chapter.
In his early sixties, here is Michel again on dating sites. Love at first sight again with a “magnificent lady”, this time his current partner. It was seven years ago.
Without transition, he continues with his story: “The first evening, I discovered a sex beast! […] She had a lot of men in her life, I don’t want to know, but one thing is certain, they brought her to me! »
It’s explosive. “Everything was there, sex toys, all the reasons were good. » Day two, Madame confides to him that she has an illness. It’s degenerative. It won’t go well.
In fact, he adds, “it’s managed very well, until it’s no longer manageable…”
The first years, nothing appears. “She lived at 200 miles an hour. ” Him ? “At 150,” he replies. She knows she is going to die. Not me. »
And then, suddenly, exactly one year ago, everything changed. “She didn’t recognize me anymore. Nor his children. » Think psychosis, hospitalization, medication. We can barely imagine the anguish. “With antipsychotics, I found my partner,” continues Michel, “but I lost her physically. »
He explains: “I get her up in the morning and put her down at night. His libido is dead. Sexuality: it’s been off for a year. A long, quiet river. It’s not easy, because I’m a one-woman man,” he repeats.
It happened overnight. Of course, he doesn’t blame her. “I understand her! I can’t blame him! » But he is lucid. And he says it: “I’m getting rid of my unsaid things: I know she’s going to end up in residence soon, and I can’t follow her. It’s a loss, right? »
He doesn’t hide it, he makes up for what he lacks with toys. He even started talking to her about the future. “I informed her that I will probably meet other people. I’m not meant to be alone. […] My partner, I know that I am going to lose her, it is written in the sky. […] And human nature is there. »
We understand that he refuses to give up on his life. ” Absolutely. When she is in residence, this will be a starting point. I can’t spend my life waiting for…nothing! »
When it is pointed out to him that he ultimately does not at all resemble the François cited earlier, he explains: “I find myself in his story, except for the ending. I know the rest. It must be apprehended. Life goes on,” he concluded, suddenly his eyes watering.
