So much has happened. I should've been here, home in Jersey three days ago. On Sunday night, I felt like I was getting a cold or something. That quickly got worse. I tried packing yesterday but felt worse. That's when Amber took me to the ER. I've spent most of my childhood in hospitals. I'm not scared of them. I just don't like them all that much. They show me how weak I really am.

At first, they made some mention about pneumonia. They did blood work (the nurses say I have great veins) and x-rays and I was put on IV. Before the nurse took my blood, Amber warned that they might ask about my sexual history. They did.

"Yes, I'm a homosexual. Yes, I've had sexual intercourse. No, I haven't had sexual intercourse in the past three months."

And then the doctor asked, "Would you like to be tested for HIV?"

Every pair of lips that met mine, every penis I've seen and tasted reeled through my mind. I've only had intercourse three times and we used protection all three times.

"Yes," I answered.

"Ok, I'll have the nurse bring you the form you have to sign."

And from that moment till now .... I'm scared.

"... a few days," he said.

I don't get the results back for a few days. How do you deal with waiting that long? Knit? Play bingo? Go out carelessly and fuck anything that stands to pee? That virus can live inside you for a few years before showing any symptoms. I've swallowed semen. Once. But what if that guy was HIV positive? I was held down and almost raped when I was 15. What about that guy? He bruised me.

Blood.

Pre seminal fluid.

And .... now.

My mother would kill me. Kill ... me! Way before HIV gets the chance to. And what will my grandparents say? How could I tell them that I'm positive? How could I posibly tell anyone? I laid there in that hospital bed for a few hours, staring up at the wall, Amber watching TV ... just thinking. Thinking and praying. Praying I'm not positive.

"I don't want to be positive. I hate my life sometimes but I don't want to die right now. And yah, there are meds you can take to stay healthy. I can't afford 'em. I'm not even having sex. It's not fair!"

The doctor came back with my x-rays. He said it's only bronchitis. He said my white blood cells are fine. I have to take medication for two weeks. Antibiotics. And I have to call him in a few days for my HIV test results. I was discharged. Amber and I went back to the apartment. Norm called and gave me the third degree about safe sex. She asked me like five times. I was annoyed. If I said I've had safe sex ... I've had safe sex and you should take my word for it. Something that affects my life so greatly I can't see myself lying about that. But I wasn't about to bring up what happened to me six or seven years ago and give a list of every guy I've gone down on.

I woke up this morning and packed. Norm picked me up after 11. Another lecture on the way to the train station. Three hundred dollars. I took the train back to the city, caught a bus and came home. My room's still cold. Radiator is still busted.