I came out of the closet in the throes of the AIDS epidemic and fell for someone I thought was a safe harbor. The blurred lines between his love and his lies have haunted me the rest of my life.
I must apologize to the author, a dear friend. He had shared the link to this piece earlier this month, but the email software decided to hide it away. Once again, I'm honored to know him, to feel how he writes with vulnerability and beauty.
"This story deeply resonated with me, as I found myself in a similar situation years ago. The AIDS era was a terrible time, leaving a legacy of pain and fear that many of us still carry today. It's so important for the gay community to share these traumas, which have followed us for decades and which we are still processing."
I’m a gay man in my mid twenties, and I can’t imagine how heavy all this was to live through back then. Today we all know about HIV and protect against it, but it isn’t a death sentence. This story makes me realize how much strength it took to live through that era.
An exquisitely told story of the vulnerability of living with the contradictions; the profound pain, the deeply resonant love. The dissonance of was it betrayal? Was it love? Thanks for sharing this.
I’m so glad I read this twice. Two good cries. This time I caught the “foreshadowing” red ribbon on your wilting “Bienvenido” balloon. Heart-wrenching. Your vivid details allowed me to “see” this as a short, powerful film in my mind. A beautiful piece.
This is devastating and profoundly human. The betrayal cuts deep, not just because of the lie, but because of how much truth there also seemed to be inside the love. That dissonance — that the same person who held you so gently could also take away your right to choose — is almost impossible to metabolize.
And yet, your honesty here doesn’t seek pity or reframe it as fate. You told the story without sanding down the sharp edges. That’s rare. That’s brave.
Some wounds don’t close because they weren’t meant to — they ask us to live with the contradiction instead. And you did that with integrity.
In the early 90s I lost a close friend to AIDS. Matthew was a hemophiliac. So was his brother. They both contracted the disease through blood transfusions. However, I was living cross country and for whatever reason my friends neglected to tell me Matthew was sick/dying. When I got the call he was gone I was literally in shock. It’s the not knowing that gets you. And then all the questions that come after. And then wondering why no one was good enough to tell you the truth. I feel ya. I really do.
I must apologize to the author, a dear friend. He had shared the link to this piece earlier this month, but the email software decided to hide it away. Once again, I'm honored to know him, to feel how he writes with vulnerability and beauty.
I was there with you. So sorry for your loss.
Great story, so honesto and raw
"This story deeply resonated with me, as I found myself in a similar situation years ago. The AIDS era was a terrible time, leaving a legacy of pain and fear that many of us still carry today. It's so important for the gay community to share these traumas, which have followed us for decades and which we are still processing."
This story is so touching. Thanks for sharing it with the world J!
I’m a gay man in my mid twenties, and I can’t imagine how heavy all this was to live through back then. Today we all know about HIV and protect against it, but it isn’t a death sentence. This story makes me realize how much strength it took to live through that era.
An exquisitely told story of the vulnerability of living with the contradictions; the profound pain, the deeply resonant love. The dissonance of was it betrayal? Was it love? Thanks for sharing this.
What a poignant and touching story, and the truth that may never be discerned with clear boundaries, especially when it comes to our hearts.Thank you.
I’m so glad I read this twice. Two good cries. This time I caught the “foreshadowing” red ribbon on your wilting “Bienvenido” balloon. Heart-wrenching. Your vivid details allowed me to “see” this as a short, powerful film in my mind. A beautiful piece.
This is devastating and profoundly human. The betrayal cuts deep, not just because of the lie, but because of how much truth there also seemed to be inside the love. That dissonance — that the same person who held you so gently could also take away your right to choose — is almost impossible to metabolize.
And yet, your honesty here doesn’t seek pity or reframe it as fate. You told the story without sanding down the sharp edges. That’s rare. That’s brave.
Some wounds don’t close because they weren’t meant to — they ask us to live with the contradiction instead. And you did that with integrity.
I loved this story. Love can be so complicated and painful, yet you still hope you get lucky enough to experience it just once in your life.
Beautiful piece. And it took me right back to those awful days.
Gosh! So many layers in this one. What a marvelous piece of writing that lures you in, gives you hope, crushes you and then lifts you up again. Bravo!
What a powerful read. Thank you.
In the early 90s I lost a close friend to AIDS. Matthew was a hemophiliac. So was his brother. They both contracted the disease through blood transfusions. However, I was living cross country and for whatever reason my friends neglected to tell me Matthew was sick/dying. When I got the call he was gone I was literally in shock. It’s the not knowing that gets you. And then all the questions that come after. And then wondering why no one was good enough to tell you the truth. I feel ya. I really do.
Thank you for the excellent and heartfelt piece. Ah, relationships. So challenging to numerous ways.