Storm

I see it, but I can’t stop it. How many times have people said they are undetectable and safe to sleep with? Well, Storm believed them. Because Storm is a believer who easily falls in lust and trust. Now, he is falling apart. And there is nothing I can do.
And so I watch him from afar as he gets weaker, physically and mentally. I want him to go out and live. Savour every second he has left. I want him to fight for his life. But he stays hidden from the world, believing that no one will feel his loss. If I could only make him see how wrong he is. So wrong. I will miss him. I will feel his loss. He’s obsessed with films about his condition now. Every day he watches them in a loop. The normal heart. It’s my party. Philadelphia. An early frost. Longtime companion. Those films play on repeat, adding to his personal hell. It’s like punishment. But maybe I am wrong and every tear he cries for the characters on the screen is cleansing? Could this be his way of healing? How can I pretend to know how he feels when I don’t? And he doesn’t talk. He locked himself away in a world where his untimely death is the only certainty. If I could make him understand that people can survive this, but they need support and the will to carry on. They need their medication too. Storm refuses it all. It’s suicide. Slow and painful. And he doesn’t want me to save him. I can’t save him if he doesn’t let me in.
So I sit in my corner and I wait. Every new sunrise he lives to see is an achievement. Not mine, but his own. I am surprised to see him take a shower today. And he cleans his home too. There’s a glint in his eyes. A determination that hasn’t been there for a long time too. I don’t understand what is happening. Or who. But over night, he changed. Why? And why does it unsettle me? My soundless screams aren’t heard. My pushes and shoves are mere ghosts of a touch on his skin. Don’t do it Storm! Don’t do it! Don’t…

I was infected with HIV when I was seventeen. It’s Aids now, but I don’t want help and I don’t want pity. I don’t want to be seen as the sick one. I don’t want them to see me deteriorate. I don’t want this disease to steal my life. So I do it myself. My party. My beginning. My end.
I love you,  goodbye. Storm

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December 1st is world AIDS day. The numbers of new infections are still rising, or again. There are many ways to protect yourself. Apart from the obvious one, one of them is to educate yourself. Don’t play with your health or your life. xx