Double Up

Yesterday I went to the doctor for my winter appointment. While there, I got a chance to talk to him and to his wife, Susan, about how long it's been since I started seeing them. I made a comment how it really hasn't seemed like nearly three years. Susan asked me if I remembered how timid and scared I was the very first time I walked through their office doors and I smiled and said I did remember. Because I do. Of course I do. I'll probably remember it forever.

I first found out I am HIV positive on Friday, September 28, 2007. I'm not going to go into all that diatribe again. If you're so inclined, this is where all that can be found. Anyway: back then, I was a mess. Corey and I were talking recently about it, briefly, and he said how much of a turnaround I seem to have had since the original diagnosis and now. He's right.

Look, I can only say that the first year after finding out I was positive was very difficult for me. And, as I look back, I see someone who isn't who I am now. Which is the only possible outcome as far as I'm concerned. As Corey and I were talking then, I remember saying how very much I would kick myself in the ass if I could; if I could go back in time and talk to 2007 me, I would totally have to tell him to stop with the histrionics and foolishness. But that's for an imaginary life. Now, as things turned out, my numbers are the highest/lowest they've been since I first started seeing my doctor. Way back when, my T-Cell count was 333, and my viral load was over 49000. Yesterday, T-Cells were at 712 and viral load was less than 75. All of which is infinitely good for me. My doctor says the same thing every single time I see him: he says he doesn't see why I keep going to visit him, he says I'm always damn healthy, my blood tests always show that everything is working properly and nothing else indicates anything else. Since I started seeing him, I decided to keep track of my doctor's visits (which has morphed a little into my adventures with general and specialized medicine).

There are some days when I'm fully aware of the virus. And sometimes it gets me down a bit, I'll admit. Usually, it happens when I've forgotten to take my meds or when I need to refill them. It's happened recently, early this winter, as the entire family seemed to be struck with a vicious cold one at a time, and my niece was kept at home so as to not be around me. My older brother's said that there have been times when if Emma, my niece, is sick, he'd rather not expose me to all the little terrors she picks up from the monsters at her school. My father's said I should get the swine flu shot because I am already sick. You know, things like these. Which, as I've said before, makes me feel a little down because everything seems to be a little emergency now.

Still, it seems more like a nuisance than anything else. You know, like getting up and going to work in the damn early predawn hours: you do it because you must, there's no point in crying about it.

I don't know, after leaving the doctor's yesterday, of course everything was made of chocolate and whipped cream! And I think a lot about what could have been, probably more than it's healthy to. But at the same time, I think about myself and how, to Corey's point, there's been such a change, which has been totally unconscious. Used to be I was very good in the middle of a bad situation and it was long-term that I wasn't very good at. Who'd guess things might change? Certainly, not me.

(For your information: here, and here.)

Obstacle 1

We had a conversation the other day (yesterday? my memory is absolutely terrible), Corey and I, wherein I said that everything is on the table. Everything. We were talking about the future, you see. Maybe our future, maybe not - he's much smarter than I am, and often he makes sure I'm following his train of thoughts and sometimes it goes over my head - but the future. And as clumsily as always, I realized two things, long after the actual conversation had taken place. It doesn't discount the validity of either realization, but sometimes I wish my brain didn't have so many holes.

The first is the most obvious one. Not everyone thinks the way I do. My father has been telling me this for years and I've often, with reason or not, just brushed him aside and thought he was just being an angry old man, obtuse, set in his ways, and unable to understand. Corey's been telling me over the last year or so that everyone thinks a certain way...except me. Over our Valentine's Day weekend, we were walking along somewhere in San Diego, and I don't recall exactly what the conversation was, but at one point Corey said I seem to not choose to participate in what seems to be the norm for people our age, or just people in general. After a few hours, I think while we were having sushi (an underwhelming adult experience for me, which I don't understand, especially after having had eel (gross!!) for the first), I said to him that I liked what he said, that I choose not to participate. Because I don't.

Funny thing about me is I go under the assumption that whenever I'm talking and sharing with anyone, from my family and boyfriend, to strangers and co-workers, everyone knows what I mean when I say things I believe about marriage and music and family and films and books and politics. Because what I believe is the right thing, you see. It's everyone else who just doesn't get it. And for thirty-three years, having this assumption, well, can I just say I am wrong? And what really set this off like a neon sign in a quiet suburban street was when Corey and I were talking about the future, a hypothetical future, sure, but I was getting frustrated with the way the conversation was going because I couldn't understand why Corey didn't get what I was saying...until we were in the car and I realized that, despite whatever the topic is, I believe whoever I'm talking should automatically understand what I'm saying because I think...I don't really know why. Look at my arrogance.

The frustration Corey and my father and others probably feel/felt is completely justified and my own is regrettably not. Which means that I'm more close-minded than I think I am. Because I often don't let other people's sentiments and ideas and beliefs and traditions to come over and play with mine because I feel mine are right and just and theirs are not. How fucking insane is that of me!? And after having this little "ah-ha!" moment, I wondered why anyone talks to me (which I say often to these lovely people in my life, but I think I finally get what I mean to say).

The second thing I came to realize is that as far as the future is concerned, EVERYTHING is up for grabs!

Okay, so I just spent a page telling you how close-minded I am, yes? Well, this is the part where I tell you that I believe in the future and in the future everything is fair game: family and love and marriage and divorce and money and travel, etc. Because who I am now isn't who I was five, ten, seventeen years ago; who I am now isn't who I'll be tomorrow, nevermind the years from now. And because of this, as Corey and I were in the middle of the aforementioned conversation, I realized that every option for us is on the table. As it should be.

We were talking about us, of course we were. And when I say that the possibility of being together with the one you love for the rest of your life without it being marriage, that's valid. Just as it's valid that somewhere along the road I want to get married is also valid. One does not negate the other; both possibilities can coexist in the future. Because, you see, for me to say 'never' about everything is pretty much selfish and arrogant (there's that word again!) and plain stupid, I think. Conversely, I think when it comes to people, we should continuously remain open to every possibility. Because of all that stuff they teach you about the road less traveled, sure, but also because even when you go down a well-traveled path, it doesn't mean that you're not going to find interesting stops along the way...as long as you're willing to stop.

Reading this as I type it sounds pretty dumb because it tastes like everyone would tell me, "Duh! Javier, everyone knows this already!" if they were to hear me say so. Thing is, probably this is true, but I tell you what, me, realizing things about myself happens so infrequently, when it does happen, it's outstanding. Because I definitely don't want to be the main obstacle in my life.

Anyway: TO THE FUTURE!!!

Cute Monster

I would totally let him eat me.

We Laugh

What's been happening isn't anything that's too surprising...for me.

And what's been happening is also one of the most beautiful adventures of my thirty-three years.

My lack of a life plan never included anything like what Corey brings to my life. And that IS surprising. What isn't is that I click so well with him. That he gets me and if he doesn't he tries to (people just don't try anymore, do they?). And he's funny and insanely smart and beautiful and such a nerd and such a lovely human. I say a lot how lucky I am to have him in my life, and I know I am. It isn't often if ever that anyone out in the world who isn't family, with one exception, astonishes me as much as he does. This is no hyperbole.

So, this man in the photo with me (which he took), the one I'm laughing with (were we laughing at the idea of taking pictures? waking up in the hotel after little sleep and lots of nakedness?), is he the one I've been waiting for only I didn't know it? I don't know...

...but I definitely want to find out.

Boy

There really is something about a boy in jeans.

I'm lying naked on his bed and he comes out of his bathroom, a towel around his shoulders and I see the way his muscles are relaxed and he walks over to his dresser and picks out a pair of briefs and walks over to his closet and puts them on and in that very oh-my-! way they fit him - hugging him in every right way - I can't help but look as he picks out a pair of blue jeans and he leans over to put one leg through and then the other, the sinew of his back bends and flexes in near-apocalyptic ways, and he rights himself and buttons them and he throws his towel at me because I've been watching him with such awe, I must look like I've a few too many chromosomes.

It's the way he holds my hand as we walk down the street.

It's certainly the way when I open my eyes and meet his gaze and see that smile as he lies beneath or on top of me. I wonder what he's thinking. Because I'm thinking I'm this fortunate that this is who I get to share this rightnowthisverysecond moment with. Makes me think of things like fairy tales being true and genuine. Maybe is the lack of space between our skins that seals what's wonderful about this moment, feeling him writhe all along my body, the way his flesh gives way to mine and the way his sweat makes him taste.

The way when we're sitting in the dark of a movie theater, watching some story that's already derivative of something from ten years back, and maybe we're both leaning into the armrest between us just so that our arms are touching and I move to cross my leg ankle to knee, his thigh mere millimeters away, and he slides a hand over my leg and clasps mine and we continue watching the movie and i rest my head on his shoulder and everything is alright with the world.

It's not surrender when he wins.

And when I see him for the first time on any given sun-flooded day, he smiles and says hi and puts his arms around me and I've mine around his waist and I can feel him everywhere and he kisses me the way it supposed to be and I smell the way he smells and there's no music playing but that's okay.

Fate

As I'm typing this, I should be changing clothes and I got a text message saying, "p.s. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" from Corey.

Today, I turned thirty-three years old. And I think and I wonder what's the big deal with me? Why's it that even a birthday is more problematic for me than it need be? Of course, it's not always about me, so I just need to get over it.

Thirty-two was very impressive. I'm not prone to thinking about fate or destiny in any way, but, as I said to Corey on new year's day, perhaps the preceding year needed to happen the way it did because I learned so much from it. It hurt me and it loved me unlike anything ever before. It isn't hyperbole. I can look back and see various instances where I got a chance to show all my little cracks everywhere and be adored for it; I allowed myself to not be a piece of sharp metal all the time. My family and I, this year was very precarious and I'm glad well all came out of it relatively unscathed. And, for me, thirty-two showed me what I'm missing in my life.

Spent a lot of time with the best friend from the very beginning. Probably the most in nearly five years since I left Las Vegas. And as it's worked out, she was my foil through this last year. I don't know if she knows it, but with her reflecting what's good and right and appropriate at various points, I could see nearly every single time that what I did and said or not had value or had value taken away. I hardly ever see things in these terms. Because, mostly, I see life as a series of unconnected events I get the chance to wade through. And I still believe this. But just because I go through these experiences and see these people, I have a say in how it will all turn out.

Some things just are. But not everything can be left up to chance.

Golden and I would say often how we should be more punk rock about life and take chances. She and I exchange this little bit of wisdom, and I, for one, didn't stick to it. And now that thirty-three is here to stay, I'm reminded of something else I wrote late last year (which I deleted because I'm done with those histrionics).

I'm not going to foretell this year, but what I've seen so far of it, I love. Truly. Because already I'm just walking through a series of events and letting them happen to me. I'm exacting some of it. Big shock: it's better. Some things just are, true. Others do mean a lot more than anticipated. And yet, others cannot just be left alone. What I see for myself as far as I can taste is a wonderful man in my life, a family that's suffered (and still is) but who still remains united, my best friend making me grow more than I think she even knows, a job that's actually enjoyable and could take me places.

I'm rambling.

Thanks to my family and Golden and Corey, thirty-two was infuriatingly necessary. Thirty-three, because of all of them, will be extraordinary. Might even call it fate.

Yes

Third week of the new year's coming up, you see.

I don't date is the easiest way to put it because it's succinct and accurate. Because I don't. Most people, good Christ, I can't stand them. But that's not entirely true: I love people of all shapes and flavors. It's when they want to get close to me or I them, they lose their appeal. Which is fine. As I mentioned before, I'm not in this life situation to collect ex's. I'm not looking for my next person to date once this one is done with. Who does that? Why? I never really got it.

Over the last few weeks I've been thinking...

"And when you meet someone and fall in love, and they fall in love with you, you ask them, Will you take my heart—stains and all?” and they say, “I will,” and they ask you the same question, and you say, “I will,” too."

...and what I seem to have come up with is a really simplistic answer to a pretty complex question. Because no, I'm not in this to collect ex's. I'm not.

Metal

Sitting in my car as I type this:

Last night we're on the phone and I'm on the verge of tears and maybe she doesn't notice but she's telling me exactly what I need to hear and I know it all to be true because I believe these things about myself and what my value is but probably because I'm a pretty prideful person I don't want to make time for more truth and seeing as how one bad day has turned into two I really ought to own these little tidal waves of emotion and allow myself to feel hurt and sad and cry my eyes raw but as I said to her this doesn't happen to me because I don't make it a habit of developing anything with other people because usually [they're] not worth my effort and she says how perhaps this is different and I know it is but that doesn't mean much to me right now.

I think it's so stupid of me to feel bad. These things happen so infrequently. Call it what you will, I'm made of metal and I can't have anymore of it. And it creeps in from the edges of my days. I feel so foolish.

Maybe one good long cry and that will be that. Maybe that's what I'll do tonight.


- sent from the world via BlogPress.

Crooked Little Vein

"If even half of what you’ve told me about yourself is true, you should’vs turned into the world’s biggest asshole years ago. But you’re sweet and you’re funny and you don’t give up. You know how hard it is, finding someone in this town who’s still determined?"

- Warren Ellis, CROOKED LITTLE VEIN

The Sandman

"Love…Have you ever been in love?…Horrible, isn’t it?…It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…you give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn’t you own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like ‘maybe we should just be friends’ or ‘how perceptive’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart…It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love."

— neil gaiman, THE SANDMAN: THE KINDLY ONES