Laguna, California

HIV Negative

After six years of a sexually active, fun-filled relationship, my partner suggested we get an update on our HIV status. He found out he was positive, so I assumed I was too, but my results were negative. Of course we went through all the emotions associated with finding out our status as a couple. I have tried time and again to convince him that neither of us is any less valued, but he refuses to touch me anymore. He says being gay no longer means the same thing to him. He wants us to remain together, yet we have no intimacy. People see us as a couple after 12 years together. They assume we sleep together, and yet we grow further apart.

At first, I was the crazy horned-up man I always was. Except now it was just me. He avoids seeing me naked, avoids touching my body like he used to. We stopped sleeping in the same bed. We are still each other’s best friends, yet we avoid discussing the elephant in the room. Instead, we talk about our next trip, hanging out with friends, our pets—everything else but us. I feel like this disease has become my way of life, my loss, my loneliness—unless I choose to leave and start all over.

I used to be such a horndog. Now I have learned to focus on other things: to value my life, to spot the bullshitters, to embrace the authenticity and to see myself as more than just a quickie. Still, I am in a quagmire. I don’t know how to go forward—or wonder if I am going forward the way I am supposed to? While I no longer need the sex, I do find myself dreaming about intimacy, which I don’t see as something that will come back in my present life. Now, the love I see and feel is for my dogs. They look for me and show me they love me every day.

Have I overcome a hurdle? Yes, because if I wanted sex I would just go out and get it without many questions. While most of the times I used protection, I did not always place much emphasis on the other person’s status. I don’t know how I am doing as a person in a serodiscordant couple. We are just living with it—taking each day at a time.

What three adjectives best describe you?

Sincere, kind to a fault and optimistic.

What is your greatest achievement?

I succeeded in my career as a manager of people for 30 years.

What is your greatest regret?

That my brother and I are only related by blood—we know nothing about one another except what we hear. That my mother never knew me, and I only knew her temperament.

What keeps you up at night?

Knowing that I could have done something better—that my life is going in a circle I wish to get out of.

If you could change one thing about living with HIV, what would it be?

I wish we could go back to the way we enjoyed one another. I wish that we could find a way to recognize we have this disease but not let it become us, destroy us.

 

What is the best advice you ever received?

To lead, follow or get out of the way.

What person in the HIV/AIDS community do you most admire?

Can’t say I know anyone.

What drives you to do what you do?

I enjoy seeing the fruits of my labor, and I am self-motivated because it makes me feel better.

What is your motto?

Put one foot in front of the other. Each step is an accomplishment.

If you had to evacuate your house immediately, what is the one thing you would grab on the way out?

My two pups.

If you could be any animal, what would you be? And why?

A gay person’s dog, because through our animals we learn the authenticity of unconditional love.