Funerals have a way of bringing light to our own mortality; something I would not have even considered this time last year. As I sit here, as positive as I try to be, a part of still thinks about how long it will take before this thing takes me. The scariest part of it all is the cost. I’ve never been scared to openly admit my diagnosis, but I fear that if it cost too much to maintain health, I may be put in the position of a disease that progresses too quickly, ultimately leading to my demise. No one wants to know how they will die. I see images of a frail version of myself with ghastly purple blotches. This haunts my dreams and adds to my fears.

Then there’s a voice that simply comes in and says, “I shall have…. What I decree… Yes I believe… It belongs to me…” Something like a bit of an affirmation, that the life I desire is available to me, only if I believe that it is. There’s a peace that settles over me as I watch the skies change from day to night and I see the stars form in the distance, I recognize that I’ve been brought through another day and I’m eternally grateful for this life I’ve been given to journey through. What a wonderful life it will be. 

I always sleep so peacefully nestled in his arms, legs intertwined, feeling his breath so softly on my neck. When we move in the middle of the night, it’s always in sync. He turns on his back, and I adjust my body so that my head lands square on his chest. The meter of his heartbeat soothes me, as I stretch my thigh across his and extend my arm across his torso. It’s like a dance.
This night, I had something different in mind..

I ran my hands across his stomach ever so slightly; enough so he could feel, but not enough to wake him. I had another way in mind to break his slumber. Outlining his body with my finger, I dip lower to his thigh, making sure not to touch what my mouth was yearning for. I’m definitely no tease though.. Without warning, he feels the wet, warm sensation of my mouth, which startles him to excitement..

I look up..

He looks down..

Smiles devilishly..

“What you doing down there?”

That’s my cue to continue as I take the beautifully crafted flesh in my mouth. He knows how those moans and grunts turn me on. Ferociously, I please him, both hand and mouth, leaving no stone unturned ;-). I know I have him when he grips my head. Daddy knows what I like. He pulls me up, turns me over, and without warning, his tongue is pressed up my thickness. I feel his breath teasing me. I squirm, moan, attempt to move, but his grip won’t give. Daddy… is… strong.

His kisses move upward and soon his lips are on my neck. No words, just kisses, but I understand the language they speak. He teases me with his stiffness. He knows I want it, but he loves making me wait. So deliberate, so passionate..

Slowly he strokes me and inch, by inch, I feel him. Deeper and deeper with ever kiss. I gasp for air. The pleasure leaves me breathless. The rhythm of this dance won’t be created with anyone else. He caresses all of me. Sensual kisses as my rhythm complements his.

Stokes,thrusts, sweat, and moans. It’s music in the making, and we feel every beat together. Faster, he strokes me. Harder he thrusts. I feel his hand grip the back of my neck. His grunts send me to places.

I feel him reaching release.. Grunts louder, moans intensify, and… Hmmmm…

A part of me tries to reconcile the controversy behind being same-gender loving and Christian. This poem came in one of those moments. Don’t stone me for my thoughts..

With Him..

Before my entrance into physical existence
He told me the truths of life
Spoke them to me
Mouth to ear
As I hungered for more of his words
Spoken sweetly as cherubim play ludes in the distance
I was wrapped in him
The essence of who he is
Until the day my spirit
Broke the plane of this dimension
Wrapped in the flesh of the sons of John
Beautifully crafted
Skin the hue of burnt sienna
For I am a reflection of his majesty
Touched with the same feelings,
Desires, I aspire to maintain
The truths he spoke to me
Being true to my form
For he was touched with everything
I have yet to experience
And before all this chaotic disruption
Of spirit and flesh
Love and lust
Truth and desire
I lay with him as I lay with hims
Intimately nestled with the reflection of him
Who created me while
He told me the truths of life
Spoke them to me
Mouth to ear.

(c) 2010 Marcus Johnson

When did I become such a skeptic when it comes to matters of the heart? I’ve always been one who believes no matter what, but my faith is starting to waver. Like a lot of people I know, my life has a strong connection to music, which can be both a gift and a curse. Often times, I make connections to songs and it takes me weeks to get them out of my head. For the past two weeks or so, that song has been “Ex-Factor” by Lauryn Hill.

Now before you start jumping off on tangents, just keep reading…

The connections that you make with someone that are truly based on love entail both a physical and spiritual experience that may not be easy to forget. The song itself made me examine the totality of devastation that occurs when you hang on to something or someone for too long. Lauryn’s lyrics coupled with the rawness of her vocals give life to situations that a lot of people are still living today.

“Loving you is like a battle… And we both end up with scars…”

We all know that scars scratch more than the surface. The ones I have are staring at me every time I look in the mirror, refusing to look into my own eyes. The sad thing about scars is that some of them can be permanent if we don’t allow them to heal properly. I remember my mother saying not to pick at scars. Now I see what she meant. Lesson learned.

“I keep letting you back in… How can I explain myself?.. As painful as this thing has been… I just can’t be with no one else…”

Sometimes we think that being alone is the ultimate sign of defeat or that singleness is the end all, be all of our existence. I’ve been there, knowing damn well the shit was not going to work, but taking phone calls, replying to messages, wishing, hoping, thinking, and praying that he would change his mind and make it work. The funny thing is that being alone is not the end of the world. Heartbreak does not stop life; it just causes a slight interruption or pause, and as much as I would have liked to continue with him in love, it is probably for the best that it did not work out.

“See I know what we’ve got to do… You let go and I’ll let go too… ‘Cause no one’s hurt me more than you… And no ever will…”

Then.there.was.pain. The type of pain that cuts you to the core of your soul, and forces you to see that person you love as some kind of villain. As much as you try to forget, you still remember. I’ve made the mistake of remembering the pain in moments that are regretful; like in instances of meeting someone new. I freeze up, almost numb, because my recollection of what love is like includes the pain, which is something I want nothing more of.

“No matter how I think we’ve grown… You always seem to let me know… It ain’t working…”

This takes me right back to wishful thinking of course, but enough about that. The back and forth will kill you…

“And when I try to walk away, you hurt yourself to make me stay…”

The thing that strikes me most with this line is that hurting yourself is an indication that you need to be cared for. It seems like the very moment you’ve decided to be done, your ex recognizes that they need your care, your love. In my mind, I know my love is unique because of the shit I’ve dealt with, and when an ex doesn’t want you, but doesn’t want anyone else to have you, they do what they can to ensure they can utilize your care when it’s necessary. I’m just the dummy who continues to offer it.

I can’t deny that I’ve exhibited my share of uncouth behavior, but if you don’t reflect upon it, you won’t learn from it. You don’t want to continue to perpetuate the same actions over and over and over and over because “It could all be so simple, but you’d rather make it hard,” is more poetic in thought than being honest and saying, I really need to let you go, but we both keep holding because it’s comfortable. Dealing with unreciprocated love for an extended period of time can lead to a buildup of emotional blocks that can inhibit our ability to love again. As I reflect, I see the mistakes I’ve made and how costly they’ve been in contributing to my skepticism. I’m growing slowly but surely, but I’m a lot more careful these days in determining who is worthy of my heart. Maybe my skepticism is warranted or maybe re-examining scars takes me to a place of doubt. Either way, I’ll give my heart time to heal, and go back to my old fashioned roots, and soon enough, I’ll stop playing this song.

Today, while working, I took a moment to read the contents of my journal and stumbled across an entry I wrote in 2007, that I entitled, “It’s a little bit funny.” I was recently divorced (looooooooong story), and was adapting to living life alone. It expressed all the fear and anxiety of starting over after totally re-arranging your life to accommodate someone else. I realized that I find myself today in the exact same position. After the end of my last relationship, attempts to reconcile, compounded with the diagnosis of HIV+, I find myself in a place very similar to where I was before; alone and scared. My entire life has found a new center and that is maintaining my physical health. It is all so weird.

The doctor appointments are probably the most intense experiences I have had so far. I am so tired of being pricked with needles for vaccines and blood work, but I promised myself to stay on top of things. I haven’t started any drug treatments because thankfully my T-Cells counts are close to normal. The doctor did tell me to lose weight though. (-_- ). My weight loss goal is to be around 215-220, by the time the spring rolls around. Right now, I’m at 268, so I’m got a bit of work to do. I also love that my doctor teaches courses on Infectious Diseases at the University of Mississippi Medical School, and that she sits on the Board of Directors for the HIV/AIDS Coalition of Mississippi. She is very open with me about treatment options and is very adamant about me making an educated and informed decision. I have done the research and considered the options, so if the time comes, I will be prepared.

A lot of people have been reaching out to me lately, and I am so grateful for the encouraging words and the compassion that has come out of this. I try to be voice that can say what others feel they cannot. No one wants to suffer alone, but it’s so hard to reach out sometimes for fear of rejection. I hope my words help other to love fearlessly, or at least let’s them know that they are not alone..