Dinner for two- How I came to terms with HIV
They say that love is blind, making you oblivious to the things that can hurt, focusing on the very thing you love and everything else just blurs away at the edges.
We had arranged to meet in our usual spot, a park bench overlooking the cold Cape Town Ocean.
My heart would race, and my stomach would quiver in the moments before we were to meet. I felt like a teenager again, like I was riding a rollercoaster.
I arrived early and sat down on the bench and composed myself.
Breathe in, and slowly exhale.
I slow blinked and looked out the ocean, trying to calm my mind.
A lonely seagull called in the distance and the hum of traffic seemed to blend with crashing waves.
For so long I had given up on finding that someone. I had already resigned myself to living alone and had already perfected the art of the one-man dinner.
Men had come and men had gone.
My love life was like an old stagnant pond, barely a ripple of emotion but full of frogs and slimy things.
Then he came along.
It was like someone threw a meteorite into that pond, blowing the emotional waters into the sky.
He did that, with just a smile.
It was after our first long chat that he told me.
It was like finding out that Freddy Kruger is real. This monster in the room.
I remember a fake smile on my face but inside my soul had turned to stone.
A tear had started to quiver over the surface of my eye.
In my mind, black and white movie scream queens cried and thrashed in anguish, “Why, why why?“ ”
Just after my monochromatic emotions had started to feel, when I could hear the birds chirp and there was this skip in my step, and then he told me.
The clear blue skies came crashing down, and with one lonely tear that rolled down my cheek, I thought that it was over.
“ I am HIV positive.” , It wasn’t a statement, it wasn’t a casual remark, it was as if he was pointing out the obvious like he was telling me he had coloured his hair or bought a new shirt. Something that was a part of him, something that you had to accept before you saw him for what he was.
I remember him looking at me, his hand darting out like a silverfish in a cool flowing river, His finger catching my tear as it rolled down my cheek.
His eyes widened and looked on in compassion filled those endless dark orbs.
“Why are you crying? “
“Why? “, I wanted to scream and thrash about and throw insults to the gods, why tease me so, why promise me love, companionship and a chance to finally have a reason to live.
That dreaded disease, a plague that had cut down so many. I was scared.
I didn’t want to shrivel up and fade away, even for love.
How could I be with someone where every time he kissed me I would have thoughts of been infected?
How could I even make love to a person who was what I could equate to as a loaded gun? Wear a condom, but still that fear, that awful fear was there.
A stray drop of blood and I would be there with him, another converted person to the shrine if HIV.
Another ticking time bomb.
Would I pull away from him as he climaxed?
Would I feel the urge to wash my hands after every time I had been with him? My mind flipped, cartwheels, visions of men in ET Hazmat suits, a gaunt stick-thin figure saying his last goodbyes.
Like a subliminal advert, images of aids babies, heroin junkies, pleading eyes, hospital beds and a cocktail of medication flashed before my eyes. A Bible, a curse, a red ribbon a grave, God hates fags, maybe the Westborough Church was right. Those thoughts were there, they flashed and pulsated before my eyes, drumming in this fear. HIV kills, there is no escape.
I silently faced him, I turned and held his hand, how could I tell him, but even now I had the urge to wipe my hand on my pants. Yes uncalled for, but 30 years of this constant barrage of negative associations with HIV, my thoughts had twisted.
How could my love survive with this fear of been infected where I would never have any freedom, where every thought and every gesture would have to be thought through.
“But how can I? “I sobbed.
He smiled a smile of a guru and said.
“Easy … With Prep “
I sat there on that cold park bench and his words of hope washed over me. It was like someone throwing me a lifeline, allowing me to pull myself to safety. I cried in disbelief, so much for been a butch bearded guy, tears of joy and disbelief streamed down my eyes.
He told me about a pill, just one pill, that I could take that would allow me to be protected from the Virus, just one pill that could change my whole world. He explained the differences between undetectable, and how he was in control of his “gift”. And that HIV was not a death sentence.
I felt like a fool, a goofy grin appeared on my face and I leaned forward and kissed him.
I could feel the warmth of his lips on mine, and the taste of his breath as his chest heaved a sigh of relief.
The first step in healing had begun.
Now to see if I could unravel 30 years of fear and repugnance, but small steps first, I was just getting used to the idea that I would have to start learning how to cook for two.