My partner and I met at a nightclub when I was fifteen years old and he was sixteen. I fell in love with him at first sight. He looked healthy. I could not tell he was ill. It was when I was clearing his things away nine years later, after he died, that I found the test results. I got the test myself and the results showed that I too am positive.
His last words were, “Death is not the end, but the beginning of a new journey.” I am not scared of dying anymore. I believe that life goes on. I miss him very much.
My mother never accepted the fact that I am homosexual, my father even less. After my partner died I tried to move in with her, but she did not let me. She was the first person I wanted to tell that I was positive. I thought she would look after me, but she didn’t. My father wanted to beat me up when he found out about it.
Today my life is part happy and part sad. During the hardest time of my life, I found the love I did not get from my family in ABIA, the AIDS support organization. They are my family. I have a roof over my head thanks to the goodwill of friends. I know I won’t have my family’s support, so I must move on. Still, I hope one day my mother can hug me like a mother should.