May 24, 2007

I’m back home, I haven’t seen Stan other than from my window. He knows I’m here, he has stopped by my car every day on his way to and from school.

I want to know what he is thinking. I want to know that he is safe.

I receive my test results in two days, depending on them I’ll talk to Stan or not. I feel like I don’t deserve him, I really don’t deserve him. I placed him in harms way, I was irresponsible and my stupidity could ruin his life.

No matter if the test is positive or negative, I’m going to let Stan go. I don’t deserve him.

Two more days.

My mother has been rather silent. I know she wonders why I’m here, she won’t ask for fear of my answer. I will eventually have to go back to school, no matter what the result. I can’t continue to just rot away, like I’ve been doing.

I wanted to see him. I drove down here after writing the last entry, because I needed to see him. I needed to know he was ok. I felt like running to him, checking him over as though I’d find some type of mark that would let me know if I had infected him or not.

He is going to hate me.

I guess it is a testament to my love for him that with this horrible decease looming over my head my biggest worry is him. What ever happens to me, it was my fault, my irresponsibility. But him? He is only 16.

Tears overwhelm me again, I can’t keep them away. I keep having nightmares hearing the doctors booming voice reading out my sentence. I want to curl around my mom, hide behind her and beg her to make it all better. Make it all go away, pretend this is simply a nightmare.

I want to wake up and find out I never slept with Hector, that that illusion I had of the perfect relationship with Stan is real. I want to have my future back, where I dream of one day moving in with him, of waking up by his side, of living, just fucking living. Because I don’t want a death sentence, I don’t want this.

I don’t.

Happy Halloween.