money would allow.
I became a shadow of my former self, sitting white-faced
and breathless by my Motorola or tapping away on the computer while friends
tried to chat. So I threw some essentials in a suitcase (two pairs leather
trousers, four pairs boots and Spartacus guide), and made the move to
Austria.
Life in Vienna is like taking a step back in time. Being HIV positive
here and comfortable about it seems to be the exception, not the norm.
There was one of those adverts from the early 90s on my boyfriend's wall.
It was a mirrored piece of cardboard, so when you moved up close to read
it you saw your reflection. The slogan below read NOW YOU KNOW WHAT A
TYPICAL AIDS CARRIER LOOKS LIKE. The irony was not lost on me.
As for the arguments…they began soon after I arrived, and continued
for the duration. There's a great deal of love between us, to be sure,
but our
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difficulty with the everyday has shown me that all those
hours clacking away on the internet were just creating a fantasy of a
great marriage, when neither of us was really ready for one. I left the
big city to avoid stress, but I found myself more wound up than ever.
A few years ago, I might well have stuck around a bit longer, banging
my silly head against a wall for something that wasn't going to work.
Now, after mere weeks of trying, my sensible head says, "enough".
So here I am, bags packed, heading back to London. Since I tested positive,
I've learned not to put myself under emotional stress that could otherwise
be avoided. If it ain't working, fix it, and if it ain't fixed, get the
hell out. Proof again that living with HIV has been the most helpful kick
up the butt.
London here we come.
