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.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

I'm NOT Okay

I’m depressed. I’m weak.

I’m paranoid. I’m pathetic.

I’m nothing. I'm crap.

I’m not okay.

Everything you said to me has been reduced to crap. Thank you. I no longer know what part of it, if any, was true. The same way you made me believe in myself was the exact same way you tore me apart.

But I was okay. I didn’t need an explanation. I had made sense of it all already. It hurt, but at least it made sense. It needed to make sense. I needed it to make sense. I forced it to make sense.

And then, when I least expected it, just when I was getting over it, you reminded me. You reminded me again. You reminded me of all my self-doubt. You reminded me how badly it hurt.

Why now? You’d walked past me already. You didn’t just walk past me. You walked all over me. Why did you have to turn and look back? Did you enjoy seeing me hurting? Were you dead set on making sure I wouldn’t be able to stand from my fall?

You gave me the explanation I was looking for. But it was too late. You gave it when I no longer needed it. Why did you do it? Why did you have to do it? Was your conscience eating you up? Were you feeling bad about it?

Did it ever strike you that what you were feeling was just a teeny weeny fraction of what hurt you’d already caused me? A teeny weeny fraction of what hurt you were bringing to me yet again?

What is this for you? Washing your hands? Wiping off your feet? And what am I, your doormat? That’s selfish. You never even thought of leaving me with my dignity.

I should have listened to my instincts. My instincts were right. But I gave you the chance. I gave you the chance to hurt me. I gave you the chance to pull me down. I gave you the chance to rub my face in the dirt.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt. I want to cry but I can’t. I need to save face. That’s all I have right now. That’s all you left me with.

I’m not this strong. I’m not. I’m numb. But not numb enough. It hurts. I wish HIV just made me numb. Why couldn’t HIV do that?

Is this my karma? Have I done something bad? What did I do to deserve this?

What I hate most is that I don’t hate you. I just hate myself. Thank you. These are the times when I question the existence of love, respect and humanity. And no. I’m not okay.


Anonymous said...

*hugs you tight*

Hun, I know you're not okay now and that you're hurting...

What can I say or do to make you feel better?

You haven't done anything wrong. You just made the mistake of loving the wrong person. Hay naku, I just wish that this person had the decency to tell you the truth.

Don't lose faith on love. It's the most beautiful emotion in the world. Kahit asexual ako, I know. :)

PS. if you can't cry, let me cry for you coz I'm feeling sooo sad and hurt for you.


get up on you feet! you are strong.... i know you are....with everything that is happening i know kaya mo lahat... i dont believe hindi mo kaya...

just keep with your journey because there is always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow....never ever give up its not you.

Turismoboi said...

ok lnag yan

may bukaz pa hehe!

Anonimus said...

Oh my God... a kindred soul. A true-blue self-flagellating hard-on-himself creative person.

The upside is... after beating yourself up... you're usually ready to beat up the rest of the world. Or at the very least to party and have a good time.

This too shall pass, sez some holy man in dat holy book.