(no subject)
[We all know the drill by now, don't we? Your characters don't know this...and it's assumed this is all in Swedish.]
I got my HIV test results back a few days ago. Before I left for North America. It was delivered, as it is every two weeks, in a small, discreet envelope. EIA it says, and if you didn't know that meant enzyme immunoassay, you wouldn't have a clue. Hell, I still don't really know what that means.
Results? Negative.
They always are, though - obviously, or I wouldn't still be getting the damn tests. Of course that doesn't mean I don't have it as I sit here. They say it probably will take three months to show any signs. And that's a pretty fucking scary thought - all those people I've fucked in three months are at risk. That's a lot of goddamn people.
But, the people I've fucked three months and two weeks ago are now on a reprieve thanks to that little brown letter, and for now, I am too.
It's lonely here in Vancouver. My apartment is pretty bare now. Not even a fucking chair to sit in. So, for awhile I was just laying spread-eagle on the floor staring at the ceiling fan, but that's a little too cliché angst for me so I hauled my ass up, plugged in my laptop, and decided to do something USEFUL. Like, uh, look up Olympic scores.
My mind, though, keeps wandering back to that fucking test. And how, even though I don't want to admit it, one small part of me is so fucking disappointed every time I open that letter and see negative. Shit, I'm not a bug-chaser. God knows if I was, I'd have an easy time of it. But...it's just...if I was HIV+, I'd HAVE to stop whoring around. It would make it so much EASIER to be faithful to Peter. Wouldn't it? ...Wouldn't it?...
[AND an OOC, aren't you
[Vacay time for me, AGAIN. Just four days this time, the 16 - 19. Erie and Columbus visiting the brotherly units. So, be good without me, kids. ^_^]