I thanked him for the advise but just like the many other unsolicited advices I received from friends and foes alike, it went to one ear and out through the other. At the time we spoke, the least I wanted to think about was falling in love. I had no place for it anywhere in my life. I was in the middle of selling my old condo, getting ready to move to a bigger townhouse in Palm Beach and gearing for work everyday because I had to help back home. Between dialysis, medicines, hospitalizations, tuitions, food expenses in my family - man, I became a super-worker overnight.
To survive this gigantic responsibility, I had to throw away many things I deemed unnecessary. To be able to handle the heavy load of my job I had to keep myself healthy. I joined gyms and running races. I refused to go out at nights because that would mean a cut back in sleep. I also suffered from skin allergies and sinus problems and one thing I could not allow was weakening of my immune system. I quit smoking. I did not do anything that might be deleterious to my health. I let my brother in law use his name for my phone number so nobody could trace me. My cell number I refused to give to anybody (nobody asked for it anyway). So I embarked on a crusade only the likes of Don Quixote could match. Yeah, I was the biggest martyr in the world - taking care of everything and everybody in my family.
My co-workers praised me. But I'm sure some were disgusted by this long-suffering, "Sisa" attitude in me. Knowing I worked everyday and could not possibly have free time, they forego inviting me to their parties. They also stopped matching me for dates. I developed a reputation in my work place as the gay who 'chooses' not to get entangled in any relationship because... oh yeah, he's into 'family values'. I was also dubiously labeled as one who will work anytime, any place where the money beckons. I think I became a dollar-faced worker at one point.
How long has it been since I last talked with Manuel? Six years, Seven years maybe? For those long years I managed to put through school four Nurses (five if I'd include my sister); I was able to run eight half marathons and countless 5k's. I opened, closed, kept, abandoned many blogs and stories and novels which never saw the light of publication except in the web. I never saw the old Fort Lauderdale gang again and if I'd see them I was always gearing for a fight because, I don't know, I just felt like arguing with everybody. I was completely abandoned by them eventually. I asked for it.
Everything in the end became very quiet and still, facilitated by my getting old. I knew that eventually, my life would settle down on a path of isolation. I was never born to be sociable to begin with. Little by little I accepted this. People came and went, jobs came and went, both my parents passed away, the kids eventually graduated, some are cool, some are not so cool, and then one evening, the phone rang...
Mario called to tell me that Mark, Manuel's lover, was hospitalized. Being a medical worker, I went on my spiel about Mark ending in hospital 'eventually' because he was overweight and his line of work wasn't exactly physical. I blabbered like it was my mission to make everyone on earth as thin as Twiggy or as anorexic as Karen Carpenter. I knew someday he would end up with a cardiac arrest or a stroke or a diabetic attack or....
Mario hushed my rattling. "Shut up," he said. "Mark's hospitalization has nothing to do with his weight. He was rushed due to complications from AIDS."
Our line became very dead for a long time. I was stupefied. It was a rare moment for me to be out of words. I think I had a lot of words to say but my throat was paralyzed momentarily. My next statement, to ease my shock was, "That sick joke is not funny." I was hoping Mario would burst into a giggle and I would resume my spiel and lecture about my anti-obesity platform in life. But Mario was serious. He was blatantly serious. "Mark has AIDS."
How could that be, I thought. I saw Mark only once and I could not imagine any sign of HIV on him. He was 400 pounds of pink flesh with nothing but a happy voice and so much love, (I surmised), with my friend Manuel. I always have my biannual update in AIDS as a requirement in my job and I have worked with some AIDS victims for years now and I thought I could 'assume' certain features that could help me tentatively suspect a sufferer. But Mark defied all those features. What did I miss? Why didn't I suspect that?
And then my shock became fear, the fear spiraling into panic. "What about Manuel?"
When did I see him last? Six or seven years ago isn't it? Did Manuel know anything about Mark's condition? Did Mark tell him? Six or seven years - oh God! Six or seven years is more than enough to infect somebody. I was suddenly very afraid for Manuel who was just like me, an OFW struggling in this world to make ends meet and to support his immediate family back home. The panic was reduced to helplessness. "Have you seen Manuel lately?" I asked Mario.
Mario too was thinking what I was thinking. Being a Nurse himself, he knew very well the risks and consequences of the type of relationship between Manuel and Mark. The news he was spouting was getting grimmer and darker. "No, Mark did not tell Manuel he had HIV."
Sighs and curses came out of my mouth. That's criminal! How can you do that to an innocent person? What kind of love is it to hook up with somebody without telling him the truth about yourself? How can you live knowing that you are pouring out your viruses to somebody else? Is that what you call love? Is that what affection is all about? "Where exactly is Manuel?" I asked. "This must have been a shock to him."
When I was still living in my condo down in Fort Lauderdale, I could immediately tell Manuel to come to my place and maybe rest or get his bearing back. I used to be like that - I am sure I know how to handle a condition like HIV in my place without affecting me even just for a while. But nowadays, with my sister and brother in law living with me, other considerations hold me back.
The inevitable happened. Manuel, after being tested, was found positive for HIV. In the days following, Mario and I talked about many ways on how to help him even in the smallest measure. We talked about helping him go back home, which was not even an option for Manuel knowing how his family would ostracize him, and where would he get his medications there? We talked about obtaining papers in the US or other countries that could provide him some free health care, again, most foreign doors are closed to people with HIV. Besides, Manuel told us, Mark needed him. In the nearly seven years they were together, they bought properties together, shared expenses and -- "No one would take care of Mark but me. His family have long abandoned him."
This was the point where clashes occurred among us. "How could he even consider taking care of a criminal?" I asked Mario. "That asshole had damaged him. All he needed to do was to use rubber and the damage could be averted. This pisses me off. And for Manuel to keep loving him, taking care of him, that, to me, is the highest form of stupidity. He should be suing, he should be claiming some damages, he should be..." And on and on and on I went. Upon hearing about my attitude towards him, Manuel begged everybody to understand him, it was love he said that made him do what he is doing, taking care of Mark was his happiness.
Manuel, oh well, Manuel lost and gained weight, just like his viral load. He went through the usual HIV treatment.
I was always negativistic with his ordeal. When he was about to celebrate his lower viral load, I would be reminding him of the risk of getting it higher if he neglected his immune system. This is the consequence of working in medical field. I rarely celebrate somebody's triumphant return to good health. I am fond of giving warnings and precautions. Don't get fat. Don't indulge in unsafe sex. Don't be lazy, move. Don't smoke. Don't drink. Don't fall in love if the consequence is a disease. Take your medicines. Do not indulge in anything that will lower your immunity. Expect the worst. Be afraid of monsters lurking in the dark. Stay away from any form of relationship. There are risks.
Manuel did not call me as often as he called Mario in the end. At this time, a lot of people did not call me anymore. My hands were always tied due to family responsibilities and they understood that. I have so many inhibitions.
Manuel would later bring Mark back to their home. And they lived together like nothing happened.
I remain alone.
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