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Xavier, 1995.Xavier
Sutter and Jones Apartment,
San Francisco
August 6, 1995
Xavier: I had been living in New York City for two years and loved every minute of it, but I was running out of money fast and found myself getting further and further away from why I moved there in the first place; to finish my degree. So, I decided to move back home and live with my parents in Tucson and attend the University of Arizona. Two weeks into the school year I got really sick. The whole nine yards of what you read about HIV: the rash, sore lymph nodes, high fever, sweats…everything. It lasted for about a week. It was always in the back of my head that I was infected, but I chose not to acknowledge it. I went to see the doctors at the health center of the University. They had no idea what it could be. They concluded it was some kind of viral infection, maybe mono or something like that. I did every viral test available except for an HIV test, but they all came back negative. As soon as I found that out, I knew.
I never saw life for myself beyond 30. But, I never thought my life would
be taken away from me so early. I knew all about HIV how to protect myself,
and I did, but I was still completely paranoid about catching it. Any disease
for that matter, but HIV in particular. However, this paranoia never stopped
me from having sex with men. I decided to go to an anonymous test site and
put this mystery to rest. That's where they told me that I was positive.
The counselor who broke the news told me very matter of factly. I was frozen
after she mentioned those five dreadful words, "Your test came back
positive." I felt like I was in a bad nightmare and I couldn't
wake up. I started crying uncontrollably. The counselor seemed helpless and
didn't say a word or offer any type of support. It was then that I
knew that I was completely alone with this. I finally stopped and she asked
me, "Are you going to be ok?" as if it were a routine question. "Yeah,
I'll be fine," I said and walked out. I immediately went to the
drug store, bought some pills and then went straight home. I kept thinking
what's the point of putting myself, or my parents, through so much
suffering and financial burden. I just couldn't bare seeing myself
whither away. I should just end it all now. I was about to take my first
couple of pills when my mom called out of the blue, "What's going
on?" she said. "What do you mean?" I replied and then I just
couldn't keep a straight face any longer. Tears started rolling down
and my voice cracked. My mom came rushing home. Somehow, she knew. She always
knows when something is wrong. She and I have always had a strong connection.
