So yesterday I found something amusing. The ex who I was involved with the longest and is possibly my reasoning for having such a fucked up, jaded view on love, has that monkey on his back that he can't get rid of. Most of you may say I'm going to hell for this, but I found the shit hilarious.
Before you go getting all judgmental on me, I'm not saying this because of the crap we went through. We were an on again off again couple because I apparently had a large case of stupid for five and a half years. During our off again points, he made very stupid choices. He had at least two HIV scares that he told me about.
Pause. Understand, I don't discriminate against HIV people, but ain't neither of us going bareback if I know you have it. We wrapping that shit up completely and utterly. Thanks, but I enjoy living.
Back to the story, so this fuckwad always let these guys go in bareback knowing that they had this disease. A disease, by the way, that killed his father while he was about 12 years old. He always says he misses his father and has made several attempts to kill himself. Didn't think he'd elect to really go this route originally, but then again, I shouldn't be surprised.
Sad part, he's on dating sites. Sure, it states clearly that he's positive, but damn.
Pause. I also gave this idiot 32 suggestions on ways to successfully kill himself. I believe this was one of them. Took the bitch four years to take my advice.
Seriously, though. I need people to actually give a fuck about themselves and their bodies. We only get one body in this life. You don't necessarily have to exclude these people. Hell, they need love like no one else. But don't kill yourself in the process. And if you know someone who's died from the disease, why would you take this risk? Would your loved one really want you to die the same way they did? I don't really get it, but seriously, you get what you put out there. If in this great world of fuckery the one thing you desire is to catch that aids, you will.
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