HIV-Negative Sympathizer

I wrote this in response to a column I read on Gay.com.

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I am an HIV-positive 22 year old. I felt like that should probably be said first. At least that way you could probably guess that this is about CIA.

My first sexual experience was when I was 19 years old. Long story short, I was raped by a guy I knew and, well, six months later I found out that I have "the hiv." That does not mean that I feel that because of the way I contracted it, I should somehow be excluded from being viewed as ill. I do not want or feel that I deserve sympathy either. It sucks that I got it, but now I must deal with it.

I am dating a guy who is HIV-negative. I told him upfront, as I always tell guys that I am interested in, that I am positive. I do not feel like wasting time and emotion trying to pursue a relationship with someone who may have a problem with it. I also feel that it is his right to know up front exactly what he is getting himself into, because he IS getting himself into something when entering a serodiscordant relationship. Let's be honest, the biggest issue in the relationship is not going to be who gets which side of the bed. One of my biggest fears is infecting anyone else as I know first hand what an emotionaI trainwreck it can make you. I also hate the thought of dying before my lover and leaving him to deal with an equally large train wreck.

I wish that I could pretend that everything about HIV is just moonbeams and lollipops, but I know better than that. No I do not feel like a "viral time bomb," but I know that in most cases, that is, basically, true.

Maybe it is the fact that I am 22 years old. Perhaps I am just less intelligent than I like to pretend to be, but I can see why an HIV-negative person would not want to get involved with an HIV-positive person. Honestly, if I were negative I do not know that I would date someone who is positive. I like to tell myself that I would not run from a relationship with a modern day lepper as I now know how it feels to be that lepper. However, had I never contracted "the hiv," I'd probably do everything in my power to avoid it. Is that wrong? Maybe it is. I do not know.

All I am trying to say is that a positive person should not get angry with a negative person for not wanting to be involved with someone who is a definite risk. If people with "the hiv" would really think about it, I do not see how they could honestly say that they blame them.
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Later Consuela.

Joining the Clergy

Father O'Flannigan and I are now officially roommates. I found a job in another hospital. I will hopefully be starting there soon. I am dating a guy that I had referred to as Elf in a previous post, but who will now be called Rubix. Enough of all that.

Father O'Flannigan told me a loverly bedtime story the other morning. I will type what I remember of it as he told it to me at eight o'clock in the morning.

Once there was a pretty, pretty unicorn named Preston who was mildly retarded. He also had an abnormal deformity on his chest. Oh and one of his wings was slightly broken so he could only fly in circles. Have you ever eaten cotton candy? Yeah, but have you ever eaten it in a BMW? The End.

So last night, NN, Father O'Flannigan, and I went to a local bar and played something called Pub Quiz. I thought, prior to last night, that I am a relatively intelligent person with a useless supply of equally uselss information. Well, I decied that I must, in fact, be mildly retarded. I didn't know half the things they were talking about. Father O and I blame it on the fact that we are not in our thirties. Most of the questions were about the 80's or 90's. We did not do horribly, but we did not win. Father O went on a shooting spree. Well, not quite, but I was waiting for him to. It was still fun.

What else? I am not really feeling like writing at the moment. I have been sort of half ass working on a new cartoon called Fatty McFatty. I think I am going to go and do that now. I'll probably write more later. Actually I definitely will as this entry is lacking. I need a nap.

Later Consuela