Sunday, December 21, 2008

The Big Move - Results

2 more days and Scott and I move into the new home. We finished packing 8 PODS with very little help from anyone. He and I will be packing and moving the rest of the house ourselves. A friend of his is lending us his truck so we don't have to spend any money on a rental. It may take a few loads back and forth but we have from the 23rd to the 31st to do it in. Scott's birthday is the 28th and he invited around 150 people to help unload the PODS and enjoy a feast to celebrate the move and the birthday. So far only around 15 people will be able to attend. Most people responded that they were out of town, had guests themselves or were too busy. It's just that time of year. I do not reccomend moving in December!

We still have to clean this place too. We have painted a little, started on cleaning the carpets, doing small repairs and making the place look better than when we moved in. We have to leave the new stove we bought a year ago and some cabinets behind. The landlady sure is coming out ahead on this one. She probably will try to keep the deposit after we move too. She is just a nasty person!

I know most of you who read this blog are fascinated with my entries about my past. Some of it has been very difficult to write about. Especially the past couple of entries and some of the upcoming ones. Like a preview in a movie the next half of my life will uncover more abuse with alcohol and drugs, poverty, depression, suicide, deaths, recovery, success, prejudice, happiness and more. There have been occasions where I thought I should leave some things out. Do I really want everyone to know everything about me? I keep telling myself that the truth needs to be told and not to care what others think about me. I have lived this long and have survived worst things than someone disliking me for who I am.

My Life: Ron went into the office to get his results of the HIV test. In my mind I knew he would come out positive and that I would too once it was my turn. I waited. I waited longer. It seemed like an eternity. I was told that there was a counselor who was with the doctor to discuss the impact of being positive should that be the result. Ron was in there longer than anyone. When he finally came out I could see that he was crying.

Ron was HIV+ and he was my lover. I didn't know what to tell him except that it wasn't a surprise to me. That sounds so cold but that's all I could think of. I didn't have a cure and I had seen what happens to those who were infected. I had read Stephen King's "The Stand" and just like Captain Trips, people were dying. I wanted to be a survivor and hoped that I was immune. Deep down, I knew I wasn't.

It was my turn to see the doctor. I went into the office knowing the answer and came out of the office in less than 5 minutes. I didn't want Ron to be alone for too long and I didn't want people to know my results. While I was in the office the doctor pulled my sheet and told me that I was HIV+ and asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I said no and left. No tears, no emotions, nothing. I wasn't afraid and I wanted to be strong for Ron.

During my late teen years I always told people I wouldn't live to be 35. Here I was at the age of 29 and I was told I was going to die. The whole town I lived in was going to die. It was the apocalypse and I wasn't immune. The best I could do was help raise money for the cure. Teach others that you couldn't get AIDS from using the same utensils or bathrooms from those infected. It was going to be a long and tough road. There was already prejudice against gays and now there was even more. Being gay with HIV was like being a southern black in the 1940's & 50's. People everywhere hated us.

After Ron and I were tested, our relationship began to decline. He was angry and depressed all the time. I was trying to be optimistic. We both continued to drink heavily. Cocaine use was becoming an everyday occurrence. Within a month, Ron and I were through. He would come to the bar and yell at me in front of customers. He'd call me names and treat me like crap. Finally he just moved out of our house and left me. Here I was, alone again...

Love & Peace,

Clayton

1 comment:

Susan said...

Your house looks nice, and your life is coming along great too. I love your story even though it is difficult to read I am glad that you are a survivor. I guess everyone has a story to tell. Scott needs to write his. You've come a long way baby(sorry cigarette add)!

Susan