For over two years now I have been living as though I was dying.
Which, even if the result had been different shouldn\'t have been my reaction.
It was just that I have, since I was a child, been doing everything I can to become a nurse.
This means great grades in highschool, and now into college.
It means endless hours studying and endless hours working to afford tuition and books.
It means programs and internships and endless determination.
I wanted to help people. More then anything, more then myself.
I was so disappointed that I could have done something to waste all of that effort and time.
I was so upset because I couldn\'t see doing anything else.
If I was diagnosed, and I was sure that I would be, it would be the end.
Of that I was positive.
I contemplated suicide on multiple occasions.
I came so dangerously close that if any of my friends or family knew, I would have been committed.
I was a zombie. I didn\'t tell anyone. I joined this community in secret.
I bided my time but not knowing was agony.
I didn\'t let anyone get close to me.
I went from my room to my car to work, to school, to my room, to work, to school.
There was no way out of this. This utter hopelessness.
I researched, I got all the facts I supported all the foundations I spread the information to all of my friends.
Protect yourselves.
I met fascinating, wonderful people who I am blessed ot have in my life.
So finally, after over two years of not knowing I slid quietly through the front door of a clinic with my doctor scribbled papers clutched tightly in one hand.
He was so pleasant, and I was so nervous.
It took only a second.
Just a second for that deep velvet red to fill all three test tubes.

You\'re negative for everything, she said.
I thought she was lying.
You\'re sure?
Yes. You do not have HIV.

So I slept.
For the first time in two years I slept soundly.


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