And maybe you're gonna be the one who saves me. (Oasis)

When he went to the prison clinic later that day and whispered his concerns to the pretty nurse her smile immediately disappeared and her bedside manner was lost. Suddenly she seemed to be holding her breath as if she would catch it just by sharing air with him. She whispered the condition to the doctor behind a medical folder as if she were keeping it secret from Uncle Tony. He waited. He spoke. He waited. They took blood. He waited and waited and waited. When the results came back he wished he was still waiting. Uncle Tony was HIV Positive.

Uncle Tony wasn't the only one dying. On the other side of the country I was convulsing on Rider's bathroom floor. I had a pretty ironclad regime developed: vomit – vomit – scratchscratchscratch – pain – vomit – tears – vomit – wailing, not crying – vomit – aches – shakes – Rider's heart breaks – vomit. It wasn't the best couple of days but now, years later, I can look back and say it was just a couple days. That's so much easier to say now though. I lost all concept of time. I was drifting in and out of consciousness. I was tired but I couldn't sleep, I was just too uncomfortable. I can't even explain the feeling. I wasn't at home in my own body. It was like my body was trying to achieve some sort of evil vindication against itself.

“Rider,” I cried out, “I'm dying! I'm actually dying. You've got to take me to the hospital. Oh my God, this is the end of my life.”

I was aware that the world was still turning. Occasionally I pulled myself along the floor from the bathroom to the balcony for fresh air but once I threw up over the rail onto the pedestrians below Rider quickly ushered me back in.

Still, I knew it was night, I knew it was day, and eventually I knew the worst was behind me. It was a mild relief. I know, you would think it would be a euphoric exciting realization but my body felt like it was still far from recovered. Everything was sore and felt somehow immobile. Even my skin felt a shaky. My eyes didn't want to open all the way. My legs felt like they would buckle as I walked the mammoth distance from one side of the bachelor apartment to the other.

“Coffee?”

“Water.”

Rider handed me a tall clear glass.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I was just murdered, buried, and clawed my way up through six feet of earth.”

“You look pretty good for a zombie.”

“Don't patronize me please.”

“Manners? Honey, this is a side of you I've never seen before.”

I was unimpressed.

“Why don't you go lay down on my bed.”

“Really?” He never let me sleep on his big magnificent king size bed with the million thread count sheets. He nodded. I abandoned my glass of water and went to his bed right away. I knew this would be a once-off after he tried to sleep on the sofa and realized what he had sacrificed. What I didn't know though, was that I was going to throw up. It wasn’t a surprise really, but I did expect to wake up for such an event. And that act alone solidified the one time deal.