My First Relationship With an HIV+ Man (Part 3)

My best friend arrived later that evening, and I still could not grasp the profound change that had taken place with just one earlier phone call. My boyfriend decided to go to East Texas and spend time with friends. Meanwhile, sure as the sun sets, my best friend and I paid the liquor store for a bit of 'sorrow medicine' and came to my house.

I looked him in the eye and told him everything from beginning to end. He asked me if I wanted to be told what I want to hear, or what I need to hear. Fair question. I told him to tell me what I need to hear. Boy, did he ever.

First, the fact that my East Texas beau said that they administered the oral swab but never drew blood would raise a huge red flag to anyone that is familiar with CDC mandates. Not me. I was too naive and distraught to understand what was really going on. But after my friend turned my beau's story into swiss cheese, I called him -- but he didn't answer. After two days, I decided to pay a visit to his mother in Longview, TX.

We sat down and she served up some delicious coffee and breakfast tacos. She was a nervous wreck... smoking one cigarette after another. Finally, she gathered her nerves and took a long puff before leveling her eyes on me. Immediately, she said that she had been concerned about him because she discovered some of his meds while cleaning the house. Also, she found out that he had missed several doctor appointments. She then asked me if I knew that he was HIV positive -- as if to convince herself that he really disclosed that to me, and for a moment, I could feel my jaw dragging against the carpet fibers. I quietly answered, "Yes, Ma'am."

Early in the conversation, I realized that he was playing both sides... lying to me and his mother at the same time to hold things together without conflict. I was absolutely mortified at what I was hearing. My best friend beat around the truth, which was -- my boyfriend had HIV for quite some time, and knew it when he entered the relationship with me. He knew he was infected when he had sex with me... over, and over, and over again.

But, love blinded me even further. Once I finally got in contact with him, we had it out. I was so furious with him... but ultimately decided to give him a chance to make things right. My best friend was brimming with lividity, but respected my decision. I fully expected the two of them not to get along for eons to come.

One day, I left for work with everything seemingly okay. I had to work a double shift, so I knew I wouldn't be back home until 6 the next morning. It was a brutal night at work, and when I got home, I was so ready to snuggle up next to him in bed --- only -- he wasn't there. The scent of his hair... empty hangers dangling in the closet... houseplants... dog... everything was gone. He wisped away in the middle of the night; an ominous note left in his wake.

He was too afraid he'd infect me.

I had been dumped because I was HIV negative.

He reunited with his ex-lover, the man who infected him, but it didn't last long. Over the holidays of 2008, he sent me a few text messages... he was getting very sick.

I am a forgiver, but not a forgetter. He said that he had made a terrible mistake... my response?

"Yes, I know."

The problem is... he really could have dumped me out of love. Maybe the power of love is in the giving and not the keeping? Maybe at times when we need it most, we must let it go? *sigh* I guess love's face isn't always pretty, is it?

The lesson for both of us? Before getting back together with an ex-lover... stop and realize why it didn't work the first time before taking them back. It could save a lot of pain and heartache in the times ahead.