I am on medication because of him. Every single day, I have to take a pill. Meanwhile, that was not my life before I started dating him. And I am here wondering if I would have done things differently if he had told me the truth about his health right from the beginning. I know for a fact that in spite of everything I know now, I still love him. Although he may have jeopardized my health, I still want to be with him. He is the one who is doing everything possible to prove doesn’t want me.

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At first, he was available to talk to me regularly. Even after the truth came out and I started taking the medication, he would call and ask if I was okay. I was as angry at him then but the calls helped me cope. Every time he called to ask, “How are you feeling today? Did you take today’s dose of the drugs?” I’d comfort myself thinking, at least he still cares about me.

I felt if the storm blew over and I was cleared by the doctors, or if it settled and I came to accept whatever results came out, I’d still find him by my side. If I couldn’t count on anything, at least I could count on our love. That’s what I believed until he pulled the rug from under me. I would go to his house and he would look at me with disdain. As if I was the most despicable thing to ever happen to him.

Tell me, in what world do you put someone’s health at risk and still treat them as if they are the problem? Or maybe, I am indeed the problem. I suppose my crime was trusting him so easily.

I thought he was a decent man when I first met him on Facebook. He had this noble demeanour with strands of grey scattered in his thick black hair. It made him look wise and honourable. Talking to him was my undoing, I think.

This guy has a way with words. He knew the right things to say to touch my heart and spin my head around. For two months, he wooed me. When he eventually asked me to be his girlfriend, I said yes even though I was yet to see him outside the virtual space.

By the time we met in person, I thought I knew him well. That very day he took me to his place. It wasn’t a rented apartment. It was his family’s home. This made me secure in what we had. All the “I love you” we said to each other on the phone meant something after all, I thought.

We did more talking and when he started touching me, I didn’t resist. The mood was right so I gave in. Sparks flew and passion overrode self-preservation. We finished and came to our senses before it dawned on me that we didn’t use protection.

We had a conversation about it and he said he hadn’t been with anyone in a while. Well, neither had I. The fact that I trusted and loved him gave me the impression that he was clean.

The next time we did it was at my place. That one too we went commando. I felt we had already done it the first time without it so there was nothing else to do.

Two weeks after we met, this guy casually mentioned that he was HIV positive. I thought it was a joke at first so I even laughed. He, on the other hand, did not laugh. He had bottles of pills to prove to me that indeed he had the virus. Words cannot capture the dread I felt in my spirit. I felt chills all over my body that very instant.

I was so angry but what could I have done? Even if I cursed and ranted, I already had unprotected sex with him twice. The best I could do was run all the way to the nearest hospital to get tested.

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I told them exactly what happened. So although my results came out negative, they didn’t exactly clear me. According to them, “You have to come back after six months to run another test.” In the meantime, they gave me some medication to take. I am supposed to be on the drugs till I take the next test and the results come out negative again. Only then would I be free from the brouhaha of daily medication.

He seemed remorseful and supportive when I started taking the pills but now he doesn’t care to pretend anymore. He refuses to answer my calls or respond to my messages. When I go to his house he practically sacks me. His behaviour has me convinced that he purposely came into my life to infect me with his disease.

If I am wrong then, why else would he go through all that trouble to get me to fall in love with him, have unprotected sex with me knowing very well his status, reveal his status later, and then tell me he doesn’t want me?

I am so pained by his actions that I want to hurt him badly. That’s what brought me here today. I want to know, will I be wrong to have him arrested by the police for what he did? Whether or not he infected me, I want him to pay. I don’t mind consulting a spiritualist. Will I be wrong to do that?

— Gracelyn

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