| It is often said
that you don't know what you've lost until it is gone.
I'd like to say my
relationship with Richard was a fairytale romance, but it was
really one forged with reality that Richard had
AIDS. And I was immature even at age 28 when I
committed to him during his first significant health issue on that
day in March 19th of 1990.
Richard had his
first bout with pneumonia. He had had to push his car
in the rain to get it off the road in the pouring
rain. I was at work. I had not yet
committed to him. It wasn't until his roommate, a lesbian
friend of mine had called me to say that Richard was in the
hospital and wasn't doing well. He was diagnosed with
pneumonia.
For months and
months, we had been an on and off thing. I was
only four years into accepting that I was queer.
I hadn't dated much and couldn't spot love if it had actually hit
me in the ass with an arrow.
Richard and I had
met as we worked in the same restaurant - both of us were
assistant managers. I've never met someone who
hit me like he hit me with that first look. It
is easy to dismiss the concept of love at first sight, but I swear
there was this intangible thing about him. I had
no idea at first that he was even gay.
In the hierarchy of
love interests, Richard had nothing about him that made me
physically interested. He was shortish and
balding even at age 25. He was about the furthest
thing from sexually arousing to me.
But those
eyes. That smile. That
laugh. He always made me feel good.
It was like I had known him for years even in those first minutes
we met. I had previously dated out of
desperation - all of them with women prior to this. I
had forced myself to try playing with the opposite sex but it was
never interesting. I had never felt love.
Until my eyes met
his. That lesbian friend of mine was actually my
supervisor in that restaurant at that time and it was through her
that I found out that not only was Richard gay, but he also
fancied me.
We were truly the
odd couple. He was heavier set and shorter than me and
he was balding with his hair brushed back to mask the obvious
shortage back there. I was nearly six foot tall and at that
age I looked nearly the same as the late NASCAR driver Davey
Allison.
I was a dumb ass
when I was that age. I didn't realize how good my life
was at that time and was full of myself. Richard
chased me for months giving me presents that I really didn't
acknowledge. Truth be told I was
torn. I knew what I was attracted to physically, but I
was feeling things I'd never felt before. I hadn't
felt the love for another person that transcended being blood
relative kind of love. Here was a gay man who
was interested in me.
As a dumb shit, I
had several times pushed Richard away in a selfish kind of
way. I knew there was something different there, but
didn't know what love was.
Until that phone
call from Diane about Richard being in the
hospital. For the first time in my life, I had
sincerely felt pain and an anxiety over someone else.
I rushed to the
hospital to where Richard was in his bed and in a typical drama
queen manner, I knelt before his bed and committed to him on the
spot. I knew then in that moment of insanity that I
had found love. And it was then Richard told me
he had AIDS. If that didn't break my love
commitment, nothing would.
If you haven't had
to live with someone with AIDS, particularly in the late 1980's
and early 1990's, you have no clue as to the challenge of being a
virile young gay man wanting to do certain things all while trying
to balance being safe. It was a constant
challenge. But we managed.
Richard had bouts
of sickness throughout our relationship, but I stuck with him
until he decided in his last months that he wanted to go home to
die. He didn't say it that way, but he longed to be
near his parents in Florida and it was evident that both of us
weren't going to deal with death very well.
Fast forward to
August 23rd, 1993. Richard had been gone for about six
months when I received a call just as I had gotten home from work
on a Friday evening.
Richard's mom, a
stern German woman who married an African American man that was
Richard's father, was on the other end of the
call. She had often dismissed me as a frosted
flake, but she called.
"Richard just
passed away. I knew he loved you so that is why I'm
calling. I wanted you to know that."
And like that she
hung up. I have never felt that much pain and
sense of loss. It iwas like my heart had been ripped out of
my body. I'm not a crying fool, but I wailed and
blubbered for hours. I had just lost my
world. At that time he was my best friend and my
lover. Even though we had talked on the phone just
days before, the pain of his loss was the most profound sense of
pain I have ever felt.
We ended up
together for about three years. We weren't
"married" as that wasn't an option in Virginia in 1990 -
but we were married in our hearts.
I've dated off an
on after his passing but I have never felt that intangible feeling
in any encounter. After a couple years, I swore
off dating. It is so hard for a living person to
compete with the dead - they have the aura of perfection in
recollection and I was incapable of pushing through that loss.
For about 10 years
or so I have found a virtual connection that rivals that feeling
of old soul love. Though I have only met Tim
through our virtual encounter, he is the closest person I
know. He is my best friend. He is as
close to a lover as I will ever have. I am torn
writing this for I don't want him to ever think I think less of
him than Richard. I have been able to carve out
a piece of my heart that can still hold dear love and
fondness. It sits right there next to where Richard
lingers in memory. Neither are in a competiton for my
fondness as I have reserved a larger bear hug that reaches to
Canada just as it does to Richard's final resting place in
Florida. |
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