I will be the answer at the end of the line
Eleanor went for her follow-up HIV test today.
The experience was horrible. I went with her to the clinic—with Cameron nowhere in sight again. He dropped off the radar the night before and still hasn’t surfaced. Even Trey's given up on trying to reach him.
But Cameron’s MIA status is the last thing on Ellie’s mind. She just got called in, and I am now sitting here writing this furiously on the back of serviettes from the Starbucks we went to just before Trey fetched us to the clinic. He got the car especially to ferry us around, saying that he didn’t think Ellie should have to face public transport today. Worried as I am I can’t help but think—he’s so sweet (: .Before Ellie went in she was literally chewing on her nails, reducing an otherwise-pristine French manicure to gnawed shreds. I couldn’t help but feel indignant—surely she shouldn’t have to go through this alone? Where was Cameron? Sure, I’m here, but it’s different. Cameron should have been here. What kind of a boyfriend is he, anyway?
Trey—who’s waiting in the car outside (to give Ellie and me some privacy) and messaging me—tells me Cameron’s a good guy, but this—all this—is simply more than he can handle at one go. And although my instinct is to leap to my best friend’s defense and ask him—Cameron, I mean, not Trey—how come he can’t handle it when Ellie can? I mean, isn’t he supposed to be the man in this relationship?
But Trey’s right.
It is too much to handle. How old is he, for heaven’s sake? We’re too young for things like this to happen to us—that’s what we always think. But the truth is that age is no protection. If we’re old enough to have sex, or if we think we’re old enough, then we’d better be prepared to handle the consequences that can follow.
But can we ever be ready to face such consequences?
Ellie is only handling it because she has to. And even then only barely handling.
I mean, look at the chewed up nails. Queen E never chews her nails. ever.
She’s been in there an awfully long time. What’s going on? Oh please please please let her be alright…
Oh God, she’s coming out. She’s coming out.
“Ellie…?”
…………
It’s confirmed.
Ellie’s HIV-positive.
…………
Ellie cried a lot when she first came out. She couldn’t stop sobbing for hours afterwards, and each time a fit subsided, all she would have to do was think—of her parents, her sister, Cameron’s reaction, the whole awful truth of the matter—and she would break down again.
All I could do was hug her and fight back the tears myself.
HIV-positive.
It’s like a time bomb hanging over her head, and we both know her life—our lives—are never going to be the same again.
There are no easy answers to the million questions I had before—the million questions that have bred another million, like crazy rabbits or hamsters. What is Ellie going to do? How is she going to tell her parents? How will Cameron take this news? Is Cameron HIV positive too??
I still don’t know if she cheated on Cameron with her ex, but at this point I’m not going to ask. Does it matter, anyway? Whatever she did, it’s over and done with. It’s the consequences that she’s got to live with now that matter.
And best friends don’t judge. Best friends never judge. We can only choose to be there for our best friends, and we accept them as they are. We aren’t supposed to try and change our boyfriends “for the better”, so why should we attempt to alter our best friends?
___________________________________________
I feel like I’ve grown up so much over these weeks. My life has changed a lot. I’m no longer the Clever Jesse, the Fearless Jesse, funny and smart and carefree, with Eleanor the queen of best friends by my side.
Eleanor’s situation has brought home to me how vulnerable we are, and that youth is no defence against life, or reality. For all we pray and all we hope, life doesn't necessarily guarantee us a happy ending. Sometimes you get second chances. Sometimes you don't.
I don’t know how Ellie’s parents are going to take the news, and I am praying and praying that Cameron is going to be okay.
And yet, at the same time, it’s not all gloom. I’ve got Trey by my side—and I am more grateful than I could ever properly express that I’ve had him there to see me through all this. All the smses, the late-night conversations-- just the fact that he's there for me makes me feel so much more able to deal with everything.
In a way one good thing—maybe the only good thing—that has come out of Ellie’s HIV saga is that it has taught me how important staying faithful is. All Ellie did was slip up-- once. Once, and it was enough. And Ellie's ex? Maybe all he did was slip up once, too. But once is all it takes-- for a condom's 98% success rate to fail, for one seemingly-harmless night of uninhibited headiness to turn bad.
Warped as it is, I think both Trey and I have been very much sobered by the entire thing. I love Trey, and I want to be with him whole-heartedly. But as strong as my feelings are for him now I cannot guarantee that this will be the same for the rest of our lives-- or even that we will be together for that long. I mean, come on-- we're eighteen. I asked Trey about it, and he—reluctantly, it must be said—agreed with me. We’ve promised each other that we won’t try and reach that level of intimacy in our relationship; I think he knows my views on premarital sex, now. And I feel incredibly blessed that he understands and respects them, and me.
Oh goodness I sound so preachy-teachy.
I think after this I will stop blogging for a while. It's been incredibly catharthic to write out this intensive period of my life, but spending all my time on the Internet blogging and Facebooking away is sapping what little time and brain cells I have left. I have schoolwork to do, Trey to treasure, Ellie to support. In short, I have a life to get back to living, and it’s going to take all my energy.
And Ellie—Ellie is so broken. My heart aches to see the girl who once thought that she would never stop partying, who felt the world should be her witness, who laughed in the faces of would-be Casanovas and challenged “vanilla faces” to dance. It’s hard to associate that vibrant, confident personality with the stricken girl I held in my arms today, a shadow of her proper, normal self.
But I know someday I will have my best friend back. Because Ellie is a fighter, and strong, and having HIV—and, ultimately, AIDS—is not going to change who she fundamentally is. She’s got maybe another 10 years left, and that is a harrowing timeline. But—as someone once said—life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but the number of moments that take your breath away.
And if I know Ellie—and I know Ellie—she’s going to make those years count.
Wish us luck!
Eleanor will go to become one of the most outspoken AIDS activists in the region, successfully campaigning for and instituting a number of healthcare benefit schemes for HIV-positive and AIDS patients, including increasing the sources and supplies of generic drugs available. Eleanor will pen several books, including an autobiography, an anthology of short stories about AIDS sufferers and "Queen E's Dictionary of Not-So-Naughty Swear Words".
She will break up with Cameron but the two will remain good friends.
Cameron is HIV-negative.
Trey and Jesse will be engaged at 24, and Eleanor will attend their wedding. One month later, she will collapse in the middle of an AIDS awareness talk in a community centre. She is diagnosed with terminal liver cancer, and will pass away after a protracted but dignified struggle at the age of 25.
Thousands will attend her funeral. Jesse will give the eulogy, and it will start like this:
"This is the story of our not-so-secret lives, beginning with the biggest secret of all-- how did Eleanor sell tampons to men?"
get involved with Jesse and Trey today @ www.notsosecretlives.com