How I Got HSV and the Boy That Gave it To Me

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I met him off Tinder.

We took a while to agree on a date to meet because we were both really busy at that point of time. It got exasperating, and I have a personal rule for online dating: If in 3 message exchanges/days you don't get a date, BAIL.

It had been over a week of texting and I just wanted to move on. I told him to "Take care x". I got a text back, "Wah take care all, don't want to talk anymore ah?" IS THAT A CHALLENGE, LITTLE SHIT??? LET ME TAKE YOU UP ON IT.

We miraculously settled for a date later. Drinks at Cuscaden and the Kingsman movie because neither of us had watched it and we both had friends giving us flak because of it. We had nice conversation over drinks. He asked me if I smoked and we had a cigarette before going for the movie. In the theatre, we made out like 15-year-olds.

We saw each other a few more times after that. Then he gave me an STD.


It was the 3rd time we saw each other. I took a day off and he came over mine. When I opened the door, he was standing there wearing sunglasses and looking hella adorable.

We made out intensely in my bedroom and the clothes came off quickly. And then he was on top of me, pinning me down and his face was close to mine.

"Babe, before we do anything, I need to tell you something."

What the fuck could this boy possibly want to say NOW?!

"What is it?" I asked, masking my annoyance like a well-trained PR pro.

"I have an STD."

I took a deep breath, "Which one?"

"It starts with an 'H'."

CB. Are you fucking kidding me? He's got me worked up, is straddling me, one second away from putting his dick in me and he's telling me that he could pass me HIV????!!! I have a friend who's HIV positive, so I had done a lot of voracious reading about it. I guess I knew enough about it, but I was still scared.

This should have been the part where I push him off my chest and tell him I need to think about it first, right? BUT HOW WOULD THAT BE A GOOD STORY IF THAT HAPPENED

Instead, I said, "Ok."

You know that satisfying feeling when a cock sinks into you after you've been royally worked up and you know the rest of the ride is going to be great? I couldn't enjoy that AT ALL cause I was too preoccupied internally screaming and being acutely aware about this HIV rod pounding into me. I told myself it would be ok, reciting transmission percentages in my head as he pumped in and out of me.

When we both finished, we lit up a cigarette each.

"So when did you find out you were HIV positive?" I asked.

He choked on the smoke. "Wait, you think I have HIV? It's HERPES, babe."

NBCB HOW THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?? YOU TELL PEOPLE YOU HAVE AN STD AND YOU ACT MYSTERIOUS ALL SAY 'IT STARTS WITH AN H'. I CAN GUARANTEE YOU THAT 80% OF PEOPLE THINK OF HIV RIGHT AWAY, RIGHT???

He laughed and gave me a brief run-down about his herpes/HSV. He had gotten it from a girl he saw casually and I was the first person he's been with since being tested positive. HOW. LOVELY.

That night was torturous. My entire head was on overdrive and it felt like I was on the verge of an intense panic attack. It felt like my senses were having a party and all of them were snorting coke or something, because every tingle, itch and slight sore I thought I felt was incredibly amplified. I kept thinking, "That's it. I'm going to have an outbreak RIGHT NOW. I'm going pull down my underwear and my vagina is going to look like it's just been through boiling water. IT'S GOING TO LOOK FUCKING PISSED OFF, LIKE I KILLED ITS DOG."

For a good 4 - 5 weeks nothing happened, and I got pretty complacent about it. I kept seeing him, "our weekly dose of each other" is what we called it. Then one night after a bak kut teh dinner and losing one side of my favourite earrings to Balestier's Hotel 81, I told him I didn't want to see him anymore.

beat.

See, my mistake was THINKING I liked him, even though he was clearly so wrong for me. After some time, I had managed to convince myself that he was worth the risk and the life that [I thought] would change after I get tested positive. I thought he was beyond all of that, and if we did eventually fall in love, the stigma would shrink to be as microscopic as the virus actually is.

But we didn't fall in love, because he was a boy. All he wanted to do was run around, get high all the time and stick his dick in things. Of course I figured this out way too late. I was caught up in a whirlwind and the over-romanticised idea that made me think it would be us against the world, fighting haters with a Doraemon bag full of weed and our united passion for sexy trap music.

And because he was a boy, he couldn't ever satisfy the need I had for, oh gee, I don't know, MENTAL HEALTH AND STABILITY. Everytime we fucked, I would go completely berserk during the night with all these crazy questions. He never could answer them in a way that would pacify me. I had to do my own reading and make my own damn calls to the DSC Clinic's sexual health counselor. 

I found out that transmission is easy, but rare. Which fucked with me for a while after I got tested positive. "Maybe he didn't pass it to me the first time. If I hadn't slept with him again, I probably wouldn't have gotten HSV. I COULD HAVE BEEN SAFE." Problem was, I did sleep with him again. Again and again and again. Always harboring a small, pathetic hope that the next time, I find something about him that I fall in love with and I can justify all of this. 

I thought I found it when he pulled me closer and kissed me on the forehead while we were watching the Friends blooper reel, or during the time we sat out on his balcony and talked about what our last meals would be, or when he lit up another cigarette even though we were about to say goodbye and he said, "I only smoke a second cigarette when I don't want to leave someone." 

Damn it, Sophie Kinsella and your team of fucking chick lit authors, and Disney, and Katherine Heigl movies!!!!!!! THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO WOMEN. YOU FUCKING IMPAIR THEM BY SERVING UP LOFTY IDEAS OF LUUURRRRVVVE THAT THEY LAP UP, AND THEY DO STUPID THINGS LIKE GIVING JERKS SECOND (AND THIRD) CHANCES.

You know what's funny? I've gone almost my whole life being void of emotion and priding myself for the fact that I can emotionally detach while I get fucked to oblivion. For the longest time, the physical and mental were completely dependent. I have a pool of pretty awesome stories because of this (I tell people it says "Slut, 2011 - 2013" on my resume) and they've all had the one running theme of me refusing to FEEL for a person. There's got to be a spark, for sure, but I never was in a situation where I craaaaved a cuddle or sweet nothings or someone calling me "babe". (I still shudder a little at that. But I'm not convulsing uncontrollably anymore.)

And then things change and I feel like I have - what my friend N loves referring to as - my shit together. When I decide I want to try something new, here it comes and takes a huge motherfucking chomp on my ass. To be specific, my immune system. But I'll leave the specifics to WebMD.

beat.

We had a running joke before I got tested - "So I guess if I get tested positive, we'll just fuck it and get married right?" 

*dry laughter that evolves into uncontrollable, ugly sobbing*