A Test of Friendship (Part 1)

True friends are hard to come by, but I have been blessed with a group that has proven honorable and true through some pretty hard times. One of my dearest friends is a former lover of mine. He is one of my greatest confidants. His story, as of late, is not a happy one, but I think it’s one that can definitely teach a lesson. We have known each other for six or seven years now, keeping in touch off and on through good and bad times in each other lives.

One of the scariest moments in my life came last summer when we began talking again after an unusually long hiatus in phone calls between us. I didn’t really understand the silence at the time. I figured he had met someone special and had become engrossed in the relationship as many of us do. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

I had made a few calls the fall and winter before to no avail or to very brief conversations that usually consisted of him being ill and unable to speak for long or actually being in the hospital and being unable to use his phone. I didn’t know what he was ill with, however. I knew he had been having health problems. He had hinted at a pancreatic problem but didn’t give many details. I didn’t really question it. I just tried to be supportive.

Several months passed, winter tuned to spring and then the heat of summer came bearing in. I got a phone call. He said that he had a doctor’s appointment in town (he lived abut an hour away from me at the time) and wanted to have a meal with me afterwards. I was on night shift at the time, so we worked it out to have breakfast once I got off work in the morning.

We hadn’t seen each other in quite some time at this point, and I could tell that he was very nervous about something as I walked up to the door of the restaurant where he sat on a bench waiting for me. We greeted each other and walked into the restaurant where we were seated and ordered coffee and juice. It became obvious that he was shaking a little and was having a hard to keeping my gaze. I was a little concerned, but I continued with the conversation as if nothing was wrong. We ordered our breakfast and when the waitress left, I asked about the doctor’s appointment. I don’t remember exactly how he said it or what words he used, but eventually he got around to telling me that he had been diagnosed with HIV and had nearly died in the hospital that fall. The short conversations suddenly made sense, as did the seemingly never-ending illness he was facing every time I called.

I was a little shocked, but I don’t think I showed it. My head didn’t really spin, I just sort of took it in as a fact, the way it was. I certainly didn’t get up from the table. He didn’t look like he had lost weight, but he had never been very big. He showed great relief after telling me, explaining that he hadn’t wanted to do it over the phone. He proceeded to tell me that nearly everyone else he had told had turned their backs on him. He had been seeing a man off and on in his home town at that point, and when he told him, he hung up on him never to call back even after offering to go with him to the doctor and pay to be tested. He was from a small town, and the news of his illness spread extremely quickly once he was admitted to the hospital. He became a pariah to many. He lost his job after missing work for so long and was in a constant battle with fatigue. He explained to me how the last months had been, wanting to die and feeling that there was no hope or future for him at all. He was at one of the lowest point in his life.

I really didn’t know what to do. All I could do was listen to his story and show my support. I certainly couldn’t turn my back on him. His only friend left was a childhood friend that he had known for years and had been kind enough to take him to doctor’s appointments and the like. It disgusted me to hear that people would be so callous as to just ignore him, even scorn him. He had been and is still one of the most kind-hearted people I have ever known. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. It didn’t make any sense to me.

I had a decision to make that day. I could have been like the rest of his ‘friends’ and even some his family by completely turning my back. I could have walked out of that restaurant that day, but that thought never even entered my mind. I was much more concerned that he was ok and that he was going to be alright. I didn’t have to do anything profound, all I had to do was listen to him and be a true friend; and I hope that’s what I have done in this case. We continue to see each other and talk on the telephone as often as possible. I am genuinely glad to hear from him and I hope that he is of me. He is still one of my greatest confidants; he can read my mood in a second and always knows the right thing to say. Things are looking better. He has more energy these days; and his daughter recently had a child, making him a very proud grandparent. It is good to hear him talk about it, to know that he is smiling again. His problems make mine look miniscule, and I know that if he can make it through what he’s been through, then I can make it through anything.

It took a lot of guts to tell me, especially the way he did. He was a man about it. He sat me down in person and told me what must be one of the hardest things to tell anyone, especially among the gay community. I thank him for that. It made our friendship stronger. I’ve known a lot of people who didn’t have the guts to say much less important things to my face, so I truly appreciate what it took to do it.

The scary moment came when I realized as we were walking out that I would have to be tested as well. It had been several years since we had been lovers, but the possibility was still there. I’m glad I didn’t think of that right away, though, so that I could focus on him when I needed to. We’ll save that part of the story. Look for ‘part 2.’