Love in the Time of HIV
As an HIV + person, what is the worst case scenario in the love arena? Is it being rejected for being the carrier of a serious and stigmatic virus? Is it being accepted and loved - - for who one is and not for what one carries in one’s circulatory system - - and constantly fearing to not infect he who so selflessly loves you?
It’s a catch 22: damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
I met “E” this past New Year’s Eve. He was part of a crowd at a party I had no initial intention to attend. However, after that night, I was so glad I did. We hit it off right away. We shared a lot of the same hardcore values and points of view about life. He is younger than me, but not that big of a difference. I was the guest at the party, so I decided to not get carried away and just went along with the flow. We all ate, drank, sang, danced and laughed. Oh, did we laugh! At the end, right before “E” left the party, he asked for my phone number. I gave it to him. He claimed he did not have a phone number and that’s why he could not give it to me. I did not make much of it and continued socializing at the party.
The days went by and no call. I continued to not make much of it. I usually never get my hopes up so quickly. I just thought I should leave it as part of a good time I had at New Year’s. Then came a birthday party I was invited to by one of the guys at the same New Year’s gathering. I could not attend, but a friend who did go bumped into “E” and told me he was asking about me. Again, I tried to not make much of it -- despite the fact that I was interested to find out what he had asked and what else he had said about me -- so I just changed the subject. At the end my friend told me that there would be another gathering right after Valentine’s and that I was invited. It was still a couple of weeks away, so I told him that I would let him know. A couple of days before the party, my friend bumped into “E” again and he asked him if I was going to be attending the party. After hearing this I couldn’t help but to let my mind run with it. It didn’t help that my friend was doing everything in his power to get my hopes up. The party came and I got dressed for it. We arrived at the party and there was no sign of “E”, finally two hours later he showed up. We made small talk at first and then he explained that he had lost my number. He asked for it again, and this time he gave me his number. We talked some more and danced the night away.
We kept in touch throughout the week and I invited him to a party that I was going to attend. He accepted it and we had a lot of fun. During the following days we went to the movies and to have lunch. At this point I felt the need to be honest with him about my HIV status. We had been talking a lot lately and I had noticed his interest in me, so I felt the urgent need to lay everything out on the table before moving forward. Needless to say he was shocked, but decided to not let this fact be an obstacle. At that moment we made it official and we kissed.
Months have gone by since that first kiss. We’ve gone through ups and downs. He continually asks me about my doctors appointments and keeps me on check about my meds, not that I need it: but I like the fact that he is concerned. We’ve had great times and some difficult ones, too but the virus has never been an issue. That was until one of the toughest days arrived in our lives. It all happened when I noticed I had a cut on my leg and I had blood on my boxers. This happened one morning after we had slept together. I was in the shower and I was scared. I did not know how to bring this up to him. I did not know how he was going to take it. I did not even know if he had been in actual contact with my blood. And I did not know if just that contact would have been enough to get him infected. I was sweating bullets. When I came out of the shower I sat down on the bed and I pulled him close to me and told him. He was scared too. I felt so strange. I felt so bad. The last thing I wanted was for him to get infected. It is a very strange feeling to know you can cause harm to someone who you care so much about. He did not act differently towards me. We still went out and had breakfast. He kissed me before I dropped him off back at his house. After this I started calling people that I knew could give me some answers. Unfortunately, I could not get any response until three hours later. They told me that in order for him to have gotten infected that way, he needed to have had a deep cut that would have taken my blood into his circulatory system; which fortunately had not been the case. This was confirmed two more times by a specialist and an HIV counselor. I immediately texted-message “E” at work and briefly told him my findings. He called me later and we talked about it.
The rest of the day I just kept on thinking if I wanted to continue with this relationship. I knew I did not want to cause any harm on his life. When I brought this question to him, he left it up to me. He said he had no problem with it, as long as we were careful. He said he wanted to continue going out with me. So we did, and we are. I pray and hope that I never have to face this situation again. We are taking every precaution and we are being very careful to make sure he remains negative. It is difficult when I sit down and think about it – when I consider all the worst-case scenarios. However, he is really good at keeping me at ease and at making me feel that love and care are stronger and a great aid in the time of HIV.
Dia del Niño
It was a long time ago, about ten years, that I realized how good children do have it: they get up, eat, play, eat again, play some more, sleep and do the same thing all over again the following day. However, it is until now that as I reminisce on the years already gone, I wish to go back. This morning as I woke up and went about my daily routine -- take a shower while listening to Latino 96.3 FM, trying different sets of clothes while watching Primero Noticias on Galavision, shaving, fixing my hair and lastly eating breakfast while listening to my horoscope and the yoga motto of the day -- I listened to the news correspondent from Mexico talk about El dia del Niño, Children’s Day, and I remembered how I used to celebrate those days back in Mexico. Man, to be a kid again! I remember that my parents, uncles and/or grandmothers would get us toys and we would go out and play ... obviously showing off our new toys. I remember playing with my Thundercats and He-Man action figures, my marbles, my big aluminum airplane, my jeep truck, my wrestlers, my hotwheels and my playmobile toys. I know where my toys are, I know where most of them ended up ... but where did the kid that used to play with them end up? What happens to us as we grow up? Is that kid really gone for ever, if he is not as I suspect, then why do I miss him? How do I get in touch with him and how do I bring that natural joy show up more often? Oh, to be a kid again.
Mi Viejo
Every year the beginning of the spring season coincides with my dad’s birthday. The birds begin to sing again, the horny rabbits begin to look for a mate again, the flowers begin to bloom facing the ever aging sun and the butcher at the meat department knows that my family will be buying carne asada by the ton for my dad’s birthday. However, this year we left the butcher a little disappointed. We did not buy carne asada by the ton. In fact, we did not buy carne asada at all. A small, well-decorated cake – in the colors and stamp of my dad’s favorite Mexican soccer team: Club America – stood in the middle of the table with a few lit candles. The Sunday soccer match on the TV in the background a long with the noises of the extended family members trying to go and come inside the house made it seem a regular weekend gathering. Some unexpected spending left us with very little money to throw a party, but we did manage to make a nice meal and a cake.
My dad at 47 is still in great physical shape, plays soccer, runs on the treadmill and lifts weights. Es un buen tipo mi viejo = he is a good guy my old man, as the song goes. Maybe not so old for a man with a 26 year old son! I am extremely proud of my dad. He had the responsibility to care for a family at the age of 19 and with his share of mistakes he has been able to pull it off. I see him and I see strength and resilience. I see faith and I see courage. I see my dad. I have seen my dad fight for his marriage, for his family, for his faith, for what is dear to him. I have great memories of him from when I was growing up. I remember seeing him play soccer and be extremely proud to know he was my dad. He was always a tough guy and I always felt safe when he was around. For some reason, I knew that nothing bad was going to happen to my family as long as my dad was around. When he left Mexico to come to the USA, I was constantly worried about my mom’s safety, my brother’s well being as well as my own. But all those worries disappeared as soon as I saw him cross the door. I was finally able to sleep well again.
Now as an adult, I see my dad and I admire his desire to see his family prosper. I understand many of the past disciplinary actions, times I was grounded and the not forgotten advice given. My dad is not perfect, but he has definitely tried hard to accomplish what every man in this world should aim to: live up to the tough calling of being a MAN. As a gay man, I feel grateful to know I’ve got a good example to follow. I feel I’ve got my dad backing me up, and just as I did when I was little… as long as he is close I have a feeling that things will be fine. May God grant me a share of my dad’s character to make it through till the end of my days and be able to provide the same kind of support and protection my dad has given his family.
On Picking Fruit @ Gay Middle Age
As a HIV+ gay male, I couldn’t avoid feeling a natural connection with Curtis, the main Character of Arthur Wooten’s novel: On Picking Fruit. Curtis at 45 and HIV+ is still in search for his Mr. Right. However, there seem to be a lot of other issues – in his subconscious – for his inability to make a relationship last or to pick a “descent” man for that matter. In a hilarious tone, Arthur presents Curtis life, as well as, his sad and sometimes humiliating instances when he finds himself on a date. Curtis’ insecurities and flaws are so well described that one cannot help but to relate to this man’s drama. His psychologist brings him forward, or rather forces him to face certain parts of his life that he has been avoiding since childhood. His eccentric mother and best friend add a true “you-cannot-make-this-shit-up” flavor to the story.
This is not the first time I hear about single middle-aged gay men and their difficulties in the area of love. Many give up. Many, who can afford it, find it better to pay for someone’s “company.” At times I just do not know what to think. In all honesty, at times it is hard to not pass judgment on them. At “twenty-something” this is a very trivial and sometimes alien concept. Thus, I’m glad that these kinds of books are being written and available for young men like me to sort of understand and better prepare for the future. Despite the common knowledge that youth is fleeting, I know many who do not think so, or rather prefer to not think about it at all. If people’s honest tales of their adventures, mistakes and triumphs – as the ones this book claims to be based on – can help others at least be aware of the purposely avoided concept of gay aging, we should be grateful and embrace such works.
This book was funny, touching, but above all it was a window into a world that is only a couple of years (about 20) ahead of my time.
Cielo Dividido - Gay Love Without Words
Gay love without words seems to be the theme of Cielos Divididos (Broken Sky) a movie by Julian Hernandez. Very small dialogue and an intense display of emotions on the screen is what awaited me inside the theater. The story in itself did not seem uncommon: boy-A meets boy-B, boy-A falls in love with boy-B, boy-A meets boy-C, boy-A distances himself from boy-B because of boy-C, boy-A regrets (kind of late) pushing away boy-B and finally pushed-away boy-B meets and falls for boy-D. However, the lack of dialogue is what gives this movie an edge. It leaves all the weight on the actors’ shoulders and the young men - surprisingly - deliver. It is a long and repetitive movie in many instances, but without any dialogue to rely upon, in the end it seems that these repetitions are needed to help the audience feel the characters, understand the script and follow the story.
Inside a packed theater at the edge of LA’s Mecca of the gay community – West Hollywood – I would have been surprised if I was the only one leaving the theater feeling touched, in some way, by the film’s plot. The other three friends that attended the film with me liked it and saw it somewhat differently from each other. I guess when there aren’t any words confirming or denying what one thinks is happening, our brains work overtime to fill in the blanks. The plot itself was not complicated, but the little nuances (left by the lack of dialogue) in the three main characters left lots of room to think. The entire movie was filmed in Mexico City, mostly in the UNAM university campus. Thus giving a glimpse of Mexico City’s gay world and depicting it as very acceptable by society.
I could not help but to think that this film was a reflection of a sad truth within the community. The lack of strong ties – forced or whatnot – such as children, marriage, in addition to closeted lives and a judgmental society make it easier to undervalue one’s relationship. The two young men’s relationship is suddenly shaken by the inopportune appearance of a third man. Even though there was no sexual encounter with this third man, the infatuation that is created eventually ends their relationship. It was unavoidable to wonder what I would do if I was in this situation: as one falling for someone else besides my partner or as being the one pushed away because my partner fell for someone else. And just as the film there was very little dialogue on my part in regards to these questions. There isn’t much to control here once the chemicals in the brain wear off. Is every gay relationship destined to end like this? I know for a fact that this is not like that. There are many that do last. How does one make it last? Where are those "gay-partner" counseling sessions ... do they even exist? Who has the secret to a successful "partnership" and why is he/she not sharing it with the rest of the community? I just hope that when I’m ready to settle down, I'm humble enough to seek help so that in turn my relationship will be like one of those many that do last.
