Date with Destiny
My boyfriend told me he didn’t have HIV. He lied.

By Anonymous

Names have been changed.

Let me tell you about the day that changed my destiny. It was July 30, 1998. Ten days after I turned 20 years old. I was working for the Gay Men’s Health Crisis and living in an apartment that was a part of the Supervised Independent Living Program. I was excited about moving out on my own within a year.

Two weeks before, I had gotten tested for HIV. I started getting tested when I was 16 years old because I was having sex and sometimes didn’t use a condom.

I had always gotten a negative result, meaning I didn’t have HIV. And since the last time I’d been tested, the only person I’d had unprotected sex with was my long-term boyfriend. He assured me that he had been tested for HIV and that he did not have it. He refused to show me the test results, but I trusted him. He had been asking me to have unprotected sex for some time, and I eventually gave in. The condoms went out the window for the duration of our relationship.

I Took the Test for HIV...Again

After about a year and a half, our relationship ended. It wasn’t long before I was over him and loving being single.

So back to July 30. When it was time to go see what my results were, I said a prayer.

In the waiting room, I thumbed through a magazine but I couldn’t read any of the articles. I always felt a little anxiety waiting for the results of my HIV test.

“Excuse me, Pedro?” a voice called out, interrupting my thoughts.

‘Your Results Came Back...’

“Let’s go into my office so we can have a little more privacy,” the HIV counselor said.

She told me what the three possible test results were, the stuff you hear every time you get tested for HIV. It was either: negative, meaning I didn’t have HIV; inconclusive, meaning the test was unable tell whether I had HIV and I would need to be tested again; or positive, meaning I had contracted HIV.

As she went on, I got more and more anxious. I really just wanted to know what the results were.

Then she told me what I would need to do if I was negative. “Be sure to continue practicing safe sex, get tested in six months, and be with only one partner,” she said, sounding like a mother telling me to wear clean socks.

I tuned her out then because I didn’t want to think about it.

“OK, and now for your results,” she said.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the envelope please,” I thought to myself.

She opened the file and placed it on her desk.

“Pedro, your results came back positive,” she blurted.

The blood ran from my body. I was in shock. How? Why? But most of all, who? Who gave me HIV?

I swallowed and tried to compose myself. I kept telling myself to breathe. Why me? I was so young.

I felt as if I had let down people who cared about me. I felt guilty for being gay. I felt like this was a punishment from God. I did everything possible to prevent myself from crying.

Who Gave Me HIV?

“Are you OK?” she was asking.

“Yeah, fine.” It was a lie, of course.

“You might want to take a few days off to relax and absorb this. This is not going to be easy for you, but you can do it. Understand that this does not mean a death sentence.”

Everything else she said was just a blur. I couldn’t listen anymore. I needed to leave. I wanted to go home and crawl up in bed. I didn’t want to think about this. Not now.

I went straight to my boss’s office. I told her that I needed to leave immediately. She allowed me to take off the next two days. I went outside and walked around aimlessly for two hours.

Shock, Anger and Betrayal

I was angry, so angry. I didn’t know what to do with myself so I tried calling my ex to tell him what had happened. I was confident that he was the one who infected me.

By the time I got to his house, I was fuming mad. I wanted answers and I wanted them yesterday.

“How could you do this to me?” I asked.

“Who did you tell?” he wanted to know. He didn’t want any of my friends getting revenge on him.

“What does it matter? I told those who are concerned about me.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. Why didn’t you call me first? We could have handled this together.”

‘You Lied to Me’

“No, we couldn’t have,” I replied, getting more agitated by the moment. “Look, all I want to know is, are you positive?”

“Uh, yeah, I just got tested recently and I found out I was positive.”

“You what?” My voice was getting louder and I was beginning to get choked up. I couldn’t believe this was happening. “I think you’ve been positive longer than you say you have. How could you do this? I asked you over and over if you were negative and you lied to me! What am I supposed to do now?”

Emotions Swirling in My Head

“Listen, baby, we can work this out.” He tried to pull me closer to him.

“Get off of me! There is nothing to work out!” I pulled away from him. I had heard enough. “F-ck you! Don’t ever bother me again!” I screamed. I was crying now. There was nothing more to say or do. I picked up my book bag, wiped my face with my shirt and stormed out of his house. My head was pounding. I could hear him calling me to come back. I kept walking.

I went home and got in bed. I couldn’t eat. I felt as if my life had stopped. I had so many emotions swirling in my head that I could not even think straight.

As I lay in my bed, I remembered all the people I already knew who were living with HIV. They were able to do everything they wanted to do in their lives. Nothing stopped them. Their sense of humor about it also helped them to deal with it better. Remembering them made me feel a little calmer.

I knew I could talk to them about what I was going through. I also knew I had many other people who could help support me. I kept telling myself that I was fortunate to have tested positive in 1998 and not 1988, a time when little was known about HIV and there were very few medications available.

Hoping It’s a Bad Dream

But I was also pissed off. Although the responsibility of deciding to have unsafe sex fell in my lap, I was angry because I had given my ex the benefit of the doubt. I had trusted him. And he had failed me. I felt like he took my life away from me.

I wanted to get even with him for lying to me. But deep inside, I knew that revenge would get me nowhere. Afterwards, I would still be HIV positive. Nothing could change that.

I fell asleep hoping that when I awoke, this day would have been a dream.

Learning to Deal

After several weeks, once the initial shock wore off, I began looking for ways that I could improve my life, both physically and emotionally. I’d never allowed any challenge in my life to take me down before and I was not about to let this one be the first.

I began to go to therapy to help myself deal with being HIV positive. Therapy taught me that although I may be faced with a life-threatening illness, I shouldn’t use it as a reason for not trying to achieve the things I want in life. In fact, it should be the reason for achieving the goals I want, such as finishing college and moving out of New York. I promised myself that I would not give up without a fight.

I started spending a lot of time alone, just looking at my life. If I wanted to live longer, I knew that I needed to spend more time on me and less time in the clubs. I needed to make sure that I got enough rest, reduced my stress and took my medications.

Above all, though, I needed to practice safe sex at all times. I did not want to infect another person. I did not want to live the rest of my days knowing that I was responsible for that.

Working Towards My Dreams

I went back to college soon after finding out that I was HIV positive. I wrote a final report, which was close to 175 pages, about learning to cope with HIV. Writing really helped me put what happened to me over the past year into perspective. It helped me realize how strong a person I really was. It also helped me find ways of coping, such as exercising, talking more with my friends, and taking acupuncture when life was getting too stressful for me.

I got an A+ on the paper and was the only student in my class to make it onto the dean’s list that semester.

This past summer marked three years since I learned that I was positive. I am now working as the administrative director for a community foundation, and am still trying to finish that college degree.

My viral load is undetectable, which means that the amount of HIV in my body is so low that the current available tests cannot detect it. It does not mean that I am negative, it just means that there isn’t a lot of HIV in my system. This is due, in part, to me taking my medications and living a healthier life.

Grateful for What I Have

More important, I have gradually managed to come to terms with my HIV status. I’ve learned to forgive myself for being HIV positive. I don’t consider this a punishment from God. I consider it sort of like a tap on the shoulder telling me that I need to take better care of myself and not be so reckless with my life.

Believe it or not, I also forgave the person who infected me. I had the opportunity to protect myself and I chose not to. I can live with that. Being angry at him or trying to be vengeful towards him will not make the HIV leave my body. I want to live a happy life, not a bitter one. Although he is no longer in my life, I know that I would be able to see him in the street and not want to get into a fistfight with him.

Now that I’m living with HIV I have learned to be grateful for what I have. The expensive medications I need are covered by my health insurance. There are so many in this world who don’t even know they have HIV, or don’t have access to the costly care they need.

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