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:( :cry:
I think about the friends I've lost along the way to HIV, and I try to remember the good times we had together. It can be hard not to just get Sad, because death is so final and you can't look forward to more good times with them, or talking about 'remember that time when we went to Pride?' You have only your own memories, which are comforting but of course, it will never be the same thing as growing old with them.
My friends weren't exactly silent, and actually, the one guy I knew (who was my first friend to die) was an ACT-UP member who was anything BUT silent (he even had a "Silence = Death" t-shirt he'd wear - which in my younger days, made me uncomfortable, lol).
With regard to my other friend, after being best friends who hung out constantly, we had a falling out and, thus, stopped talking; mind you, he had never told me he was HIV+. So when I later moved away, I had no idea he'd been sick. Three or four years later, I returned, and went looking for him at our old watering hole. I asked the bartender (same one) if Paul still hung out there. Hesitation. "Paul Jones? He's dead."
Just like that. :wow: What can I say.
I really hope they find a cure soon.
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