I started getting itchy last Sunday, and it’s not the usual itch to get laid or have fun in the house of baths. Having seen what caused that sensation was making me worried. Rashes at the back of my neck, on left side of the chest, and in the area below the belly button were alarming. So alarming, I had to google up the relationship between rashes and HIV. On the one side, I hardly have this type of skin problem. It’s always pimples, scars, and uneven facial skin tone. One girl from Let’s Face It told me that I had the face of a late twenty-something but the body of a young adolescent. I know, I wanted to poke her with the instrument she was using to prick my pimples, but she was telling the truth. Point is, I have 90% body skin clarity and fairness. In fairness. And I take care of my skin just like a normal guy does. On the other side, it may be too early to tell that such symptoms point to Ms Aida, who could be waiting by the bridge that I’m crossing soon.
If this itching persists in the next few days, I’ll be consulting a doctor. I just hope it doesn’t get worse.
I tried taking pictures of the affected areas, but the shots are bad. Hardly anyone would care either. Even that guy, with whom I hooked up a few months back. I wanted to get even with him. For making me feel used. This evil mind of mine always imagines ways of revenge. It’s like not wanting to poison him, but to inflict him pain for a long time until I’m satisfied enough to end his life. Or am I just mad at myself for being recklessly adventurous?
There are these times that I felt those little withdrawal symptoms from the substance. When guys at planet romeo offer hook ups, I always ask if they use poppers, or even ecstacy or ice. There are times in the past when I SMS chem guy and ask for some high fun. When he declines due to his “busy schedule”, I get a slight feeling of disappointment and frustration. And it’s mixed with baseless doubts that he might be fucking someone else and that I felt like I wasn’t good enough for him anymore. I resolved once to be silent and cut my communication with him before, but I end up texting him later and getting refused once again. It was stupid of me.
I could’ve directed passion to my family. My mom is very, very consistent with her messages. She over and over sends texts that start with “God bless”, “Praise God”, and ends with “Tsup tsup”. It was so sweet of her, but I just rea it and not rely back. After she lets me know how she noticed how infrequent I reply to her, I just tell her I’ve been busy and how I don’t have the time to reply. It was a bullshit excuse. Even worse, it was true love that I took for granted. I love my mother. She never got to high school, yet she had principles of a very respectable woman. But why am I breaking her heart? Because I chose the wrong person to pour my passions to. Because I was blinded by my worldliness. That my materialistic attitude sees the shallow things and not the more important people in this life.
And this blindness has given me more than what I’ve bargained for. My friends have warned me about chem guy; they even strongly prohibited me to see him again. True friends. But I didn’t listen. High fun was really good, so good that I needed to hide it from anyone. After four sessions of getting wasted and used, chem guy stopped seeing me. Would I be thankful that it stopped, or be upset for being “dumped”? I felt clueless at first, but as it dawned on me, I kinda denied the thought that it just ended. So after a few sms of hi’s and hello’s and a direct offer to service him, and after several times of being declined, all I could wish for was bad karma to come upon him. It was a terrible thought and feeling. It was a horrible reaction to my situation. I acknowledge that I am horrible, because I know. I haven’t fully accepted that I may be infected or may be ill (coz there’s no confirmation yet), but I know I have no choice but to embrace it later on. Or I can hope and pray that certain signs are nothing but false alarm. I have to admit that it was for the most part my fault. And having admitted my fault, I should move on. Life is too short to waste on spending time with the woulda’s, the coulda’s, and the shoulda’s.
The rashes won’t be gone with the scratching and the whining. Time for some application of crème to ease the discomfort…
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