Recently, I had an extensive visit with my parents. After almost two years, I finally was able to take time off of work and travel to a far away place, only to be bombarded with everything I was hoping to escape from at home. Although it was rewarding to bask in the glow of my mother’s love and relish in the vulgarities of my father, who sat idle in front of the television screen for an entire month, while being entertained by the same program over-and-over again; nevertheless, I was fine.
Testing positive wasn’t the end of the world. No, I had other problems to deal with, like being a convicted felon in a world that forces its religions beliefs and propaganda upon non-believers, and build its nations on such dogma, that it eventually explodes into a world of have’s and have not’s, solely based on ideas that are not true. Then, to top it off, I found myself lacking proper skills to acquire job security. I had a team of insane homeland security guards patrolling my ever whereabouts, and religious crazed robots hammering me about a civil complaint filed on their behalf.
I must not forget, I lost my medical insurance, have only $21 to my name, and am taking three online courses that have put my into more than $15,000 in debt. I live in Michigan, own a spoiled cat, my oldest sister has had two strokes and refuse to walk. My youngest sister was almost killed in a motorcycle accident, and I presently have diarrhea.
But through it al, I have learned that I am blessed. Blessed to be alive and enduring so much confusion. So much discomfort. So much agony, and so much hate. Never in a million years did I ever think I would be forced to change my sexual orientation, accept people who hate me, smile when I am in pain, or clean-up behind a man that does not know how to love me the way I desire to be loved. My best friend just informed me he has pancreases cancer, and to boot, I have a hard time getting sexual fulfillment. What do I do?
By now you may think I should have thrown in the towel ... I concur. But something tells me it will get better if only I make it that way. It seems God has turned his back on me because I refuse to comment another crime. I also refuse to smoke crack again, or have sex with just anybody in public places. So why do I pray to this God, many will ask ... because I was taught it is the right thing to do. After all, instead of providing adequate medical treatment and Infectious Disease doctors, having HIV is a blessing, it can be monitored, but life ... you just have to roll with the punches, wash off the bruises, and say, “I Give,” when you just cannot take it anymore.
