I Want To Make It Through

I went out looking for James. Well? Crazier things have happened, I can assure you.

Instead, I found Marty. Short blond hair, steel blue eyes, big mouth, just made for kissing. Angular face, handsome, a day's growth as sharp as needles and the smell of alcohol on his breath.

The bastard must have put his tooth through my bottom lip, some time when we were kissing and crawling over each other. I didn't realise until after we'd had sex, when I realised the beard rash couldn't, actually, be inside my mouth.

Another one who wanted to be fucked without a condom. The majority of the boys I have sex with want to be fucked raw. One of them last week, pulled the condom off me and said, Do it to me now. Drug fucked eyes, desperate for it.

Do these guys realise that being positive isn't that great? I watch my mates deal with it. And while all of them are healthy, there are side effects to the pills and all sorts of minor heath issues that can occur. Not to mention living with the angst of a virus eating its way through your blood, on a daily basis.

I want to be negative when they find the cure. I want to be able to say, I made it through. I don't know why, silly really, but it's just my thing. It just seems to be a part of the problem to not really care.

I wondered about the unsafe sex issue, as I tongued the split in my lip, as I lent against the wall trying to convince myself to go home. I did a couple of laps, lusted after Crazy Boy. Laughed, when one of the other guys said, He scares me, nodding his head in Crazy Boy's direction.

I grunted in agreement and thought to myself, I find him captivating.

But, with a split lip the choice about staying was really taken out of my hands.

Crazy Boy came up to me a bit later and said, Are you staying much longer?

I'm not sure why, except we do chat a bit when he's not running from one place to another. And I do eye the bulge in his pants... so, I guess I know why we chat.

No, I said. I'm heading home. And I headed out the door.