Yes, I'm gay. I probably was since the day I was born. On my 21st birthday, I sort of had my debut. I came out to my parents. A little drama from mom, and some indifference from dad. An above-average coming out. Almost perfect.

Nine years later, two weeks before my 30th birthday, I found out... I'M HIV POSITIVE.

And so my story begins... I'm BACK IN THE CLOSET.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Maniac Monday

Sigh. What was supposed to be another usual Monday morning, suddenly turned out to be a bad start to the week ahead. After my regular morning routine, I stepped out of the house bravely, ready to face the dreaded rush hour. I hopped on a bus out on the highway… and then it happened. The bus I was in stopped at the next corner, where several people climbed on. And there he was, a familiar face that made me cringe with discomfort. My Maniac Monday began.

This guy was familiar because we had met this same way the first time – on a bus – a couple of weeks before I found out I was HIV-positive. I remember he sat beside me, tried hard to show he was interested, and started rubbing his crotch beside me. One thing led to another, and I was reminded why my Yahoo! user name is pinoycumeater. Let’s just say the closest I got to Bayani Fernando’s Urbanidad, was not leaving a sticky mess inside a public bus. Gulp.

I admit, it was exciting. And destiny seemed to be horny too, that we’d chanced upon each other on buses a number of times more following that first day. But after the fourth or fifth time it happened with this same guy, I just lost the thrill of having sex in a public place, and he just seemed to suddenly turn me off in a dirty-old-mannish kind of way.

So being on the same bus this morning was more torture than anything else. I just greeted him with a nod, and thanked the heavens there wasn’t a vacant seat beside me. I didn’t look his way after that, fearful of unknowingly sending hormones rushing to his loins. But his persistence was admirable.

The moment a space became available beside me, he slid into the seat, and started engaging me in some small talk, all the while rubbing whatever part of his leg he could against mine. Believe me, I was in no sexual mood. So I was ready to shoot down whatever advances he was going to make.

When he elbowed me and suggested we retreat to the rear of the bus, I knew what he had in mind and I declined, and just stared out the window. He then asked if I was mad at him, which I wasn’t. I couldn’t blame him. He’d developed an idea of what a rePUTAtion I had. Yes, rePUTAtion. That’s a reputation with a capital P-U-T-A. After a few minutes, he tried again, asking if I no longer craved for what we used to do. I apologized and said no.

I was just sooo tempted to just blurt out my ultimate excuse of having HIV, but didn’t. And although technically it’s not an excuse, this would’ve been one of the few situations where I would’ve wished the person I was talking to actually did feel some stigma against HIV.

I’m not sure if he finally got my drift, but thankfully, his stop had come up and he got off, leaving me with some room to heave my sigh of relief. I’m really the type of person who has a difficult time saying no, so this was absolutely out of the ordinary. So am I just overplaying my new virginity thing?

Absolutely not. I don’t know either what got into me, but I just felt offended all of a sudden, being expected to give sexual pleasure on a public bus at a moment’s notice. I’m not saying I wouldn’t do it again, but think of it this way – giving blowjobs inside a public bus is NOT my obligation, it IS your privilege.

As much as I’d love applause all around for my taray moment, I had absolutely no clue that I still had some pride left in me. But I do believe that was part of it – pride. I also may have been trying to deceive myself into thinking that I’m saving what’s left of my dignity for my special someone – without the assumption, of course, that I am my special someone’s special someone. But that’s a whole other story whose ending remains unknown. Sigh.

For now, the curtains on this particular chapter, the one of my Maniac Monday, finally draw to a close. When will our characters’ paths next cross? Dreadfully, only heaven knows.

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