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Jeff, 1995. |
Jeff
July 7, 1995
One of the things I regret is that when he started getting sick and needy I withdrew to a certain extent. I was very clear and firm in setting my boundaries, how much time I was willing to spend, how much craziness I would put up with. How much I would alter my schedule to wipe his butt or feed him. And at the time I knew that it was what I needed, but after he died I felt like I didn't do enough, I wasn't a good enough friend. Eventually I had to let go of that.
They had a ceremony a month later when they spread his ashes over a beach in Santa Barbara and the people that came to pay their respects.... We stood around in a circle and held hands and we passed a rose around and each person said a little prayer or recounted a story so we could have everyone's memories and not just our own.
MW: How is it with your partner right now?
Jeff: The two of us know what's written. There's no one who could threaten my position or make me feel that he didn't care about me or wouldn't do anything for me. Do he and I make plans for each other's deaths? Well sort of. Whenever someone tests positive we say welcome to the club and throw them a little party or take em out and let em cry on our shoulder or get em drunk. I did that for him when he sero-converted. My friend Nathan lives in LA and works for AIDS Project, he and I always have a conversation that goes like this, "You're not going to die first, I'm going to die first... and you're going to have to take care of me." "I couldn't possibly go through all that with you, no, no, honey, it's me." I always say, "Well, I've had it longer you know so I get to go first, I get to do the whole drama, and you have to be weeping at my bedside. And he'll say, "Well I'm older. Age before beauty"... My lover and I play that game too.... "If I get sick will you feed me?" And we've taken care of each other through my major illnesses, proven our commitment.
He comes from a really religious background and when we first met and started having sex I didn't disclose to him. It wasn't until 2 months later when we started talking about being boyfriends. He felt betrayed or like I had been dishonest even though I had never denied it. We mainly practiced oral sex, but there was some experimentation and he did eventually sero-convert nine months into our relationship. He felt that I, as someone who was carrying the virus, had a responsibility to curb my sex life and to inform my partners. At that time I was just like, "Oh fuck everyone, I might as well pass it on and spread it around." Then I got the tattoo. Everyone had to know that I had HIV because of what I went through with him.
When he sero-converted it was really hard. He was so scared and alone. He'd been a Jehovah's Witness and his father was an elder in the church. He had been groomed for ministering. When the elders found out that he was gay, they all turned their backs on him, everyone he had grown up with, his family, his mother, his sisters. On the one hand he was blaming me, but on the other hand I was the only thing he had. I was his lover we were living together in a committed relationship. I was phasing out doing films. We were trying to make a life together. We had always been taught that you meet one person, you fall in love, and you live happily ever after. You stay together with one person for the rest of your life. He and I were dealing with this ideal of a life partner. I wanted to be there for him but at the same time I couldn't answer his questions. I thought he should keep a stiff upper lip and move on. I didn't really relate to his drama and upset anymore. I couldn't believe he was surprised. At this point we really are the main support system for each other. Last week I did grocery shopping for him, and I did his laundry the week before that... We see each other every day. We usually cook dinner together 3 or 4 nights a week. We sleep together maybe 2 or 3 times a week. We're tight, we're like brothers, we're buddies, we look out for each other.
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