Why to Be Afraid of Tomorrow
Part 18
The confusion overpowered my mind. I’ve got slurred speech. My muscles are weak, I’ve got difficulty paying attention and sudden shifts in mood and behavior.
You know, now I have to deal with stress. Stress is unique and personal to each of us. David always tells me that when I’m nervous, angry or upset, I can try physical activity. But it’s too difficult to do something when I am so damn weak.
Fears and anxiety. Fear makes my heart beat faster and makes it hard for me to sleep. Anxiety also makes me feel nervous and agitated.
All these feelings make me sweat, feel dizzy and feel short of breath. Over time the sadness doesn’t go away and it’s getting worse, I think.
Because of my bad behavior I often brawl with David, unfortunately. I feel sorry about it, really.
Now, my dad is coming home. It’s strange because it’s 3 p.m. – so, it’s not his usual coming. Maybe he’s sober, who knows. I heard a couple knocks at the door. I swallowed thickly before I said: “Come in.” Truly, I’m afraid. “Hello, Pierre. I’m home.” He said with a low voice. “I see.” I snapped and looked away. Now he’s approaching to me and sitting next to on the bed. “What?” I said when he looked into my eyes. “Nothing, I just thought you’d talk to me.” “Hey, I don’t have to apologize for anything to you. I expected you will communicate. I have nothing to talk about with you.” I said firmly and looked into the space. “Pierre, I’m sorry for my behavior, I’m just-“ “Hey, what? Are you kidding me? When you’re sober you start to apologize and the very next day you will get drunk again. It makes no sense to me.” I said and shrugged. His husky voice pissed me off. He sighed and hesitated. “I’m sorry, it will never happen again.” He said and looked into my eyes before I answered: “Well, sure.” There was an awkward silence before he got up and managed to go away. “If you need anything, I'll be in the living room.”
He approached to the door and in that moment I realized I should tell him the truth about my condition irrespective his reaction. He’s in the doorway. “Dad?” I said with shaky voice. “Yes?” He turned back at me. “There is something I should tell you.” I said cautiously, looking into space. “What's the matter?” He asked and approached back to me slowly. He stood in front of me. “Dad, 3 weeks ago I went to the doctor because of my daily bad condition.” I swallowed. I’m rubbing my hands. “And what? Did he give you any pills or what?” I sighed and after a short while I managed to talk on insomuch as he is my father and he needs to know what’s going on with his son despite the fact that he doesn’t care about it evidently. “No, I’m…I’m HIV positive.” I stuttered and lost control of my tears. I covered my face with my hands. He was looking at me somewhat confused but he didn’t say any word.
I was crying about five minutes. Now I’m looking up and see the empty seat next to me. He is gone. I don’t understand what happened but he took it very badly, I think. Okay, there’s another reason to make him hate me. That’s not my blame that I’m gay but when I have the stupid disease, okay, that is my fault.
When my dad walked out from my room he didn’t shut the door so I listen every sound he made. Now, maybe for 5 or 10 minutes I hear only a sound of sob. What is it? I thought and got up from the bed. Although my head is spinning I’m going on.
I’m coming to the living room and see my dad sitting on the ground with photo of my mommy in his hands. “Dad?” I’m confused and coming closer. “I promised her I won’t disappoint her, but I did.” He stuttered during his sob. I’m kneeling down, resting my hand on his shoulder. “Why do you think so?” I asked silently. “I told her I will look after you, I disappointed her!” He said aloud while crying. “Daddy, it’s just too late and we can’t go back…” I said seriously and quietly. Then I continued: “Do you remember that day when we went for a walk and she told us we’re gonna be forever in her heart no matter what happens?” “I do. Ah… I’d do anything to have her here now!” “Don’t cry, dad. You’re not the only one who misses her.” I said and sat on the ground next to him, resting my hands on my lap. There was a silence before he talked: “Look at this picture.” He handed me a family photo. My eyes filled with tears. “Aww… we were beautiful together, weren’t we?” Then I smiled weakly.
After a while of our normal conversation he told me anything I will never forget. “Pierre, I know my get drunk habit is unbearable and just that caused my hatred towards your homosexuality. Now when I learnt you had the disease, I realized that it’s not the end. I don’t wanna lose another member of my family, so, that’s it.” I was confused for a while so I had to get a grip. I smiled weakly before I said: “So, is there anything else to hate me for?” I asked cautiously. He looked back at the photo and said: “No, you are my son no matter what. Please, excuse my mentality.” He looked into my eyes and we both smiled. “That’s okay, daddy.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. “I like you, dad.” “Me too, Pierre, me too.”
I can say I’m really damn glad this happened. I’m glad he doesn’t ignore me anymore. Again, we are like dad and son. Nice one!
You know, now I have to deal with stress. Stress is unique and personal to each of us. David always tells me that when I’m nervous, angry or upset, I can try physical activity. But it’s too difficult to do something when I am so damn weak.
Fears and anxiety. Fear makes my heart beat faster and makes it hard for me to sleep. Anxiety also makes me feel nervous and agitated.
All these feelings make me sweat, feel dizzy and feel short of breath. Over time the sadness doesn’t go away and it’s getting worse, I think.
Because of my bad behavior I often brawl with David, unfortunately. I feel sorry about it, really.
Now, my dad is coming home. It’s strange because it’s 3 p.m. – so, it’s not his usual coming. Maybe he’s sober, who knows. I heard a couple knocks at the door. I swallowed thickly before I said: “Come in.” Truly, I’m afraid. “Hello, Pierre. I’m home.” He said with a low voice. “I see.” I snapped and looked away. Now he’s approaching to me and sitting next to on the bed. “What?” I said when he looked into my eyes. “Nothing, I just thought you’d talk to me.” “Hey, I don’t have to apologize for anything to you. I expected you will communicate. I have nothing to talk about with you.” I said firmly and looked into the space. “Pierre, I’m sorry for my behavior, I’m just-“ “Hey, what? Are you kidding me? When you’re sober you start to apologize and the very next day you will get drunk again. It makes no sense to me.” I said and shrugged. His husky voice pissed me off. He sighed and hesitated. “I’m sorry, it will never happen again.” He said and looked into my eyes before I answered: “Well, sure.” There was an awkward silence before he got up and managed to go away. “If you need anything, I'll be in the living room.”
He approached to the door and in that moment I realized I should tell him the truth about my condition irrespective his reaction. He’s in the doorway. “Dad?” I said with shaky voice. “Yes?” He turned back at me. “There is something I should tell you.” I said cautiously, looking into space. “What's the matter?” He asked and approached back to me slowly. He stood in front of me. “Dad, 3 weeks ago I went to the doctor because of my daily bad condition.” I swallowed. I’m rubbing my hands. “And what? Did he give you any pills or what?” I sighed and after a short while I managed to talk on insomuch as he is my father and he needs to know what’s going on with his son despite the fact that he doesn’t care about it evidently. “No, I’m…I’m HIV positive.” I stuttered and lost control of my tears. I covered my face with my hands. He was looking at me somewhat confused but he didn’t say any word.
I was crying about five minutes. Now I’m looking up and see the empty seat next to me. He is gone. I don’t understand what happened but he took it very badly, I think. Okay, there’s another reason to make him hate me. That’s not my blame that I’m gay but when I have the stupid disease, okay, that is my fault.
When my dad walked out from my room he didn’t shut the door so I listen every sound he made. Now, maybe for 5 or 10 minutes I hear only a sound of sob. What is it? I thought and got up from the bed. Although my head is spinning I’m going on.
I’m coming to the living room and see my dad sitting on the ground with photo of my mommy in his hands. “Dad?” I’m confused and coming closer. “I promised her I won’t disappoint her, but I did.” He stuttered during his sob. I’m kneeling down, resting my hand on his shoulder. “Why do you think so?” I asked silently. “I told her I will look after you, I disappointed her!” He said aloud while crying. “Daddy, it’s just too late and we can’t go back…” I said seriously and quietly. Then I continued: “Do you remember that day when we went for a walk and she told us we’re gonna be forever in her heart no matter what happens?” “I do. Ah… I’d do anything to have her here now!” “Don’t cry, dad. You’re not the only one who misses her.” I said and sat on the ground next to him, resting my hands on my lap. There was a silence before he talked: “Look at this picture.” He handed me a family photo. My eyes filled with tears. “Aww… we were beautiful together, weren’t we?” Then I smiled weakly.
After a while of our normal conversation he told me anything I will never forget. “Pierre, I know my get drunk habit is unbearable and just that caused my hatred towards your homosexuality. Now when I learnt you had the disease, I realized that it’s not the end. I don’t wanna lose another member of my family, so, that’s it.” I was confused for a while so I had to get a grip. I smiled weakly before I said: “So, is there anything else to hate me for?” I asked cautiously. He looked back at the photo and said: “No, you are my son no matter what. Please, excuse my mentality.” He looked into my eyes and we both smiled. “That’s okay, daddy.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. “I like you, dad.” “Me too, Pierre, me too.”
I can say I’m really damn glad this happened. I’m glad he doesn’t ignore me anymore. Again, we are like dad and son. Nice one!