Let me give a very public "Thank You" to Darius and to chitownjuvie for "cheering me up" after my last post. Chitownjuvie, send me your e-mail address; leave a comment and I'll e-mail you. Darius, we'll hang out soon, REAL soon.
Now let me delve further into my problem, and tell you my story:
I am a 31 year old black gay man with a nice job, a little money in the bank, and a nice place to live. I've worked very hard to get to where I am now, and continue to work hard to stay where I am. I also am living with the HIV virus (and for all of you yet-to-be-educated individuals out there that are still running to Manscountry and Jackson Park - that's another entry for another time - HIV is NOT AIDS, so please, before you say I have AIDS, get some education.)
I have seen past friends and associates pass away one by one - in fact last year alone I attended (or ushered at) 3 funerals for individuals that I either knew up close and personal or had ties to. This year I have already lost two people. As anyone with the virus can tell you, it ain't no joke. It's no longer a death sentence but it's no joke. I went from 160 pounds ten years ago down to 135 five years ago, and now I'm up to 175 pounds - with the help of exercise, medicine, and the mercy of God, whom I thank every day for sparing me.
When I tell most individuals about my illness (and I DO tell, unlike most people out there), they run. One individual (in this entry, named Don T), even went as far as trying to lead me on, then acting as if he was in shock, continuing to get on his knees to do me (use your imagination), and then told me in a phone conversation that he "couldn't handle it and didn't want to be bothered." Now, keep in mind that I told him BEFORE he "bowed down", sort of speak.
Then there are the ones that can handle it and stick around for a little while - or at least until they get into the bed - or try to get into my bank account. One guy that I disclosed to pretty much asked for money after the conversation as compensation for his time and listening to my story. (I couldn't get him out of my house fast enough, and no I didn't give him any money.)
Because of all of this, I have serious trust issues. I don't trust people. I'm always watching my back and keeping the wall up. Now when I tell people (even in casual conversation), I always throw in the line "if you can't handle it, just walk away, I understand" if they have been quiet for more than several seconds. I've been talked about over the years when I didn't know I had it (and I didn't know until a couple of years ago), and will probably be talked about more now that I'm putting it out there. There is only one person out there (besides my mother and God, obviously) that I trust implicity, and that is my straight best friend. I trust him to the point whereas he has keys to my house.
Sidebar: Let me take my last shot at those individuals that will attempt to either talk about me, or use this information against me:
(1) get some education. Most of you are high school dropouts that are either not working or think that spreading your legs is a form of working, but I digress.
(2) living in your mother's basement, sleeping on your friend's couch or "househopping" does not make you better than me or mean you have your own place.
(3) if you have multiple profiles on Adam4Adam, work scams just to try and get to Manscountry week after week, or hang out in Jackson Park (or any other park) each and every day of the week, then you probably have the virus as well. GET TESTED!
Now that I have gotten that off my chest, I feel better. So again, if after reading this entry you have something to say, whether it be good or bad, feel free to leave a comment. I'll publish them all - good and bad.
You Can't Escape Time
1 year ago