Tonight I wasnt even gonna write in this blog, I was actually going to sit in a dark corner of my tiny apartment and laugh silently to myself because when you have a day like I had today, baby, sometimes that as good as it gets. Really. Trouble in my Wanting-To-Walk-Normal Paradise. The last couple of days both myself and my visiting nurses noticed that my LEFT leg, not the healing RIGHT leg, looked kinda puffy. So this morning when I woke up and noticed it was downright swollen I said to myself "Rutrow." Got on the phone with my PCP and she said "You better get over to the ER" to which I responded "Okaayyyyy" and also, looking up at the ceiling "If this is your way of showing sarcasm, I really don't appreciate it!" So, off I went and I didnt get back here till around 4 p.m. or so - another whole day of my life spent in the friggin ER. But, at least there is something to be thankful for - no blood clots! Yes!!! I thought that since the last one was back in spring, 1999, in between chemo cycles 1 & 2 that I would never have to be concerned with that again, but not so. They still dont know what is causing the swolleness but IF it hasn't subsided in a few more days, then back I go for another ultra-sound.
Naturally, my physical therapy was canceled for today but I didnt really mind because the weather here in Boston today was horrible! Felt like 100 out there and plus raining all day, off-n-on, depending on what part of town you were in. When I returned home, one of the other tenants in the complex, a nice elderly lady and her nephew were talking in the hallway and they asked how I was doing and if they could get me anything. I stopped and paused and thought for a moment. I'm not an anal retentive cleanholic but I do like to sort through stuff and organize it, pitch out the old, and keep the good stuff without becoming a major packrat. So I told them if one of them wouldn't mind grabbing a thing or two for me outta my tiny storage space, that would be beyond wonderful. Her nephew, a very nice 30-something man, retrieved a couple shoeboxes and an old round, skyblue Samsonite suitcase that my Great-Grandmother used in the 1950's and early 60's when she traveled between here and the old country, Sweden. It was given to me by my Grandma who had planned on throwing it out but when I saw it I thought "Oh I must have this!" That was back around 1982 or '83.
So he brought the items into my tiny living room for me and I thanked him for all his help and both he and his aunt wished me a good night and told me to give a ring if I needed anything. With the exception of medical appointments and neighbors from my old neighborhood visiting me, it's been really hard for me being housebound. I get lonely a lot. So I do what I always do in the face of any degree of adversity - I keep busy. It truly is one of the healthiest things in the world for a person. Hey, having a lazy day or two is healthy for the human soul too but 4 to 6 weeks worth of that? No way, not for me.
The shoeboxes had some old letters and cards from various family members in them, as well as teeny tiny mementos of places I've been, old Red Sox ticket stubs, and crap like that. Just as I was about to open the little suitcase I remembered that years before I had placed some old letters and old family photos in it, sorta like its own safebox but for personal memento stuff, nothing super super important - or so I thought. Because when I opened it, I not only found something I wasnt expecting, I also came across 2 surprises hidden within the treasures I found! It's actually difficult to write about this because I still can't believe it, I just can't believe it! I almost want to consider it a miracle...
Remember the mystery man from "Him?" I FOUND THE LETTERS, I FOUND THEM!!! The last 15 years or so I naturally assumed they were in my teeny, tiny, itty, bitty storage unit that I have in western Ohio. Not so. I feel so damn embarassed. Why if I had even one good leg right now I'd definitely kick myself in the ass for not remembering that they were even with me! I truly thought I had put those away last time I was back west; but, obviously I didnt. And it hit me why - these letters may be almost 20 years old but I kept my promise - I told him I'd always keep them close to my heart. And I did, I kept my promise. I could just pinch myself for not investigating all of this earlier, I really could. But that's not all.
For the last few months or so, I've been so damn worried in the back of my mind about anyone discovering the letters I sent to him. Reality hit hard, because the last time I wrote about him I actually did come cross a note stating this his papers had been located and people were going through them. The first 20 minutes after reading that note, I was a mess. Instantly horrible thoughts exploded in my mind and I thought to myself "Houston...? We have a problem....." A good life lesson we need to keep in our forefront thoughts regardless of the situation - never worry about things you have no control over, just go with the flow. Wish I had practiced that months ago versus waisting some valuable life energy worrying about those letters..
Surprise #1 - those letters were written in code. No fucken shit! I just looked through every single one of them that he sent to me and guess what? There is no frriggin way that anyone can trace those letters to me. And I dont mean secret code like the codes they used in WW II - the actual wording, things that only he and I would know about- and the best part of all - the name. My real name wasn't on any one of those letters. And I now, finally, remember why we wrote in our own secret code. We both knew that if our letters were intercepted by any of the nosey reporters that would lurk around the places he lived, people would really take everything the wrong way. When we knew each other and spent time together, our lives were very different - he was a nationally known person and I was in the process of finshing my education, dealing with the loss of Jack and so on. I remembered what was in the letters - it's all there - but I had literally forgotten about our code.
I feel like shouting this all from the mountaintops! And not just for any selfish reasons on my part either - no one, not now, and not even way into the future, will ever be able to use what he and I had against his memory, whether to defame it or even to celebrate it, our private friendship with each other is not only safe, but it will continue to remain private because that's what we both wanted. It's totally safe. It's untraceable in every sense of the world. My real name isn't on the letters. And as for HivSpice, hell, the name wasn't created until a few years after he passed away. What about Jack's real name? That's covered too - do you know how many millions of men across this great country, hell, the entire friggin planet for that matter, share his first name? It's virtually fool-proof.
Surprise #2 - this one brings a combination of tears and laughter to me because it explains a couple of things about our friendship that I couldn't totally piece together until I discovered it earlier this evening. In one of the last 3 letters that he wrote to me before he died he told me something that I had totally forgotten about all these years. For months now I have read notes stating that this person or that person remembers doing this-n-that with him, or that this famous person and that famous person was part of his life. Well, I was right - he did tell one of those people about me! But that's not all - I won't say the guys name, but oh my God, when I read that name out loud to myself tonight I said to myself "No one is ever gonna fucken believe me." And, ironically so, maybe that's not sucha bad thing.
No, I won't reveal his friend's name either but now one more piece of the puzzle has come into full view. I'll reveal this much. I remember him telling me that if his friend ever needed help that he would like it if I would be there for him. A promise is a promise to me so I will keep that promise. But, I had forgotten - until I re-read it at least 7 times earlier tonight - he requested the same promise from his friend; in other words, if I ever needed him, I could go to him as well.
If you could just even hear my wheels turning right now. If anyone reading this blog now or a long time from now, even knew who the friend was, there would never ever again be one question in regards to validating who and what I man - not one. People would see his name and their mouthes would remain shut. I'm not kidding. And remember that one piece I wrote about how I think a couple of my fellow Hiv/AIDS activist contemporaries are nothing but publicity whores seeking fame and to line their own pockets? Let me tell you something - I always stand on my own two feet and fight my own battles, but when I think about how those hypocrites infuriate the living hell out of me, I would just love to ask this man to confront them! Isn't that evil? I'm sorry, but I have zero tolerance for arrogance and hypocrisy in any human being and boy, if anyone could knock down a couple of those people a few notches, he could. But, I refuse to be petty like that - besides, at the speeding rate a couple of my contemporaries are traveling at, they will slit their own throats in due time.
As for me, I'm gonna be okay. Let others make a profit off of the mystery man's name if they like, but I refuse to because I cared about him and respected him. Like I mentioned in a previous piece, he and I connected at a point in both of our lives when we both needed some private, unconditional friendship to pull us through. I can truthfully speak for both of us when I tell you all that neither of us had any regrets. But one other thing I need to make crystal-clear right here and right now - the love I had for Jack and the love I had for the mystery man may have been two different kinds of love, but my devotion and loyalty to both was and is the same exact thing. Just as I will not allow anyone to defame the memory of Jack, I will not allow anyone to defame the mystery man either.
Before I close this piece, I just wanted to say that yeah, maybe some of you already know who the mystery man is, fine, whatever; but, you gotta be able to prove and we both know you cant. The only way on this Earth anyone could do that is by matching up the letters I have with the letters that are in his papers and trust me, that's just not gonna happen.
In closing, I'd like to say that after tonight, I not only feel more secure about myself as an individual, I actually feel invincible about it in certain ways. As much as I do mention how often a word such as validation means to me, I'm not going to be concerned about what others think from this day forward. Oh sure, if someone blows smoke up my ass the wrong way I will blow it back, only twice as hard; but, no longer will I allow anyone to question my validity. As for some of the fears mentioned in previous postings, let me put it to you this way - HivSpice and I are one, and even though I can take care of myself, it's nice to know that like everyone else I have a special Guardian Angel too, someone who is never more than an email or phonecall away. And when I do finally reveal my true identity? Let's just say I'm never gonna be afraid again. Thank you for reading.
Posted via email from HivSpice
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