Deep breath...

[Anyone who's been floating around the gay blogosphere in the last few days will know why this subject is once again on my mind. In case there's any doubt:]

[1. I am HIV positive.]

[2. I don't have AIDS, and there's no statistically meaningful reason to assert that AIDS will kill me. (I'm much more likely to be killed by a crazy San Francico driver as I step off a curb.) It could, though, and that scares me mightily when I dwell on it, which I rarely do. However, I've responded miraculously well to treatment (thank whatever forces there be, and keep it coming), and while my immune system is demonstrably not what it was, my health hasn't been devastated by HIV.]

[3. There's no way of knowing for sure whether I got it from John, whether he got it from me, or whether we got it from two separate outside sources. Whatever led to John's and my breakup, HIV was not it. Ever.]

[4. HIV did not ruin my life, nor will I let it, even if I do Get Sick. It hasn't even been the hardest thing I've had to deal with in the last few years. Since being diagnosed in 2001, I have: applied and been accepted to, attended and graduated from law school; had an article published in my school's law review; watched, with my mother and sister, my grandmother die; made the wrenching decision to leave my longterm partner (that was the hardest thing); gotten, lost, enjoyed and deplored several jobs; endured and finally gotten over a corrosive romantic obsession; traveled to Europe several times; been thrilled that I'm going to be an uncle; given and received deep friendship; sung, danced, walked, run, swum, eaten, ingested toxins, written, read, and had sex.]

[In other words, I've lived. Life goes on. Don't make me say it again.]

Previously Next

[Later: Inevitable weenie disclaimer: I'm well aware that luck and my socioeconomic place in the world are all that have kept me relatively healthy so far. Don't think I take it for granted or that I don't know that millions more have been less fortunate. Selah.]