The heart, it wants what it wants

I am sitting in a field in Koalabata waiting for the 20 minutes before I can check my test results on the OraQuick thingy. My heart is beating fast and my palms are sweaty.

I wasn’t always afraid to take HIV tests,well that was until 2 years ago when someone close to me died from AIDS related complications, what followed was months of me testing obsessively, almost every month. I’d convince myself that the condom broke everytime I had sex and would get on post exposure drugs. I was a woman possessed . My friend who worked at the clinic had to sit me down and told me to get a grip.

I haven’t tested since then, yet here I am, gambling with my sanity for someone’s son! I don’t even know why this is even a big deal . Even if I test positive I can simply get on treatment and besides I am blessed with a supportive family. I’m not even planning on having unprotected sex per se. It’s just that he mentioned being obsessed with taking pre exposure medication and I think that’s not ideal. So here I am, in a field at 9am,doing things for the consideration of a liver that’s not even mine.

The 20 minutes pass, all is as I hoped so I get up and walk home, all the time famtisizing about the coupling that is soon to follow. A small part of me is cautious though, why am I behaving like this? Why am I listening to love songs and for the love of God, why am I ignoring the other two candidates in favor of this one? After all the plan was was equal opportunity. I am not even following my own rules.

In any case, I tell myself, I have made many , many mistakes before and I didn’t die! Like the time I dallied with the freedom fighter and former child soldier! If I walked away from that with nothing but a few laughs then what can go wrong?

Okay, fine. Il tell you a little about that.

To understand the relationship between me and the fighter of freedom you must first understand that he fought for the freedom and emancipation of a whole nation. He risked his life so that black people could walk around freely and as a black woman surely I owed him a debt of gratitude. It’s not like the man was even trying to know me biblically. If the man wanted to share a few meals with me, surely my company was a small price to pay for the freedom of a nation. Yes, technically it wasn’t my nation but who drew this borders anyway?

Anyway I digress, my point is I had rushed in where lesser women had feared to tread so this was nothing! I would be just fine.

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