With the push of one small, green lighted button, I engaged the mechanical activities required to reduce my lover's remains to heat and ash. Our brief marriage ended Monday afternoon as his highly compromised immune system surrendered in it's last battle against a virus. I can only trust that you are able to imagine the emotions raging in my own body and mind as I watch him transition from a physical presence to a spiritual force. He left us as he wanted, a proud gay man unafraid of AIDS and the ultimate toll that infection meant.
The sudden end to our short union has hit me like nothing else. The reality of the virus that consumed his body and that is wildly replicating in my own alternates between serious oppression and amazing joy.
Later today, a small group of our friends will celebrate his life, his spirit and his authenticity. Tomorrow and the days after, I will try to figure out how to live the days of my life in a way that honor all that he stood for. Fiercely queer, proudly POZ and full of humanity, he blazed a path that is quite clear, but difficult to emulate. I committed to him in life and I will be committed to following his path in his physical absence.
To all of the other good men who have welcomed HIV into their system, I speak to you. This is not written fully for sadness, though I am sad. It is not written to incite fear, though I have my own fears. It is not written simply to memorialize a magnificent man, though I want others to know him as I did.
Rather, I write this, on this site, at this time as a full unfolding of the story that we are all living. Our homosexuality, our relationship with the virus, our own mortality can be summed up in the passing of this man. If you have embraced the virus then embrace your life. Rejoice in how you share your days with this beautiful, intense yet deadly organism. And, as it surely will, when your end of days arrives accept the conclusion you were ordained when the virus first entered your body, mind and soul.