Obviously, that hasn't worked, although I have been extremely lucky thus far. No real discernable symptoms, other than the ones that have been in my head. The hardest thing is the feeling of isolation, particularly when it comes to dating. Sure, there are websites out there to connect people with the "gift," but I've found that guys in their 30's with herpes are bigger assholes than those without. I don't know if they have higher expectations of what they want- more perfection, less patience, or what. I know that I've become more patient of flaws, but I also know I'm less likely to settle. I've also noticed that these guys tend to be more about the sex and less about the relationships. I can understand that your sexual dating pool has been severely limited, but really? You can't form an emotional attachment? You can't see me as a person, instead of just a vag that you don't have to drop "the bomb" on? It gets old rather quickly.
Sure, there are some guys out there who know it's not a big deal. Unfortunately, there is not a secret handshake to determine who they are. I've had mostly okay experiences in choosing who I tell, but for the most part it hasn't been someone I'm dating at the moment. What's difficult about telling anyone is you don't know how they will take it. Some people think it's contagious from a drinking cup, some people will think you're a whore, some will just automatically rule you out. The ones who keep reminding me that it's not a big deal are what have saved me.
One of the first people I told is a guy I used to date, but we're still friends. For 27 (or it could be 28) years old, he's remarkably mature about it. If only he would be less of other things- he'd be perfect. But we're better off as friends, so that's the important part.
I also told a friend of mine who I wasn't dating. He stopped talking to me. Freaked out like it was going to travel through the phone to Portland, OR. He's an assclown.
Then there was the ex. Not just any old ex. This was a guy who I dated many years ago when I was young, naive, and not old enough to drink. We had been friends off and on for years, but last year (right before I started dating the douchebag who didn't tell me about this wonderful thing he had), ex and I talked about getting back together. Needless to say, it didn't work out at the time, for which for many reasons I am kicking myself now. Despite the fact that our rekindled romance fizzled, we STILL remained friends. And I told him my situation. And he really didn't care. We again didn't get back together, but still talk. I don't think it's going to happen, mostly because I have so many conflicted feelings about love in general.
Which brings me to what prompted me to start writing again. Apparently I'm on a kick of wanting to spend time with people who I've known for 10+ years. Or it could be that I'm just too much into social networking sites. Whatever. I started talking, albeit platonically, to an old friend from high school. Some of our communications did get a little flirty, but I didn't take it too seriously because we didn't live near each other. Same state, yes. Same town, nowhere near. Then things took a turn, and I made the decision to go visit. Again, the original intentions were platonic, but the flirting got kicked up a notch. Prior to my trip, I attempted to determine what his comfort level would be if I told him my situation. I was pretty confident he could handle it, but wanted to see if it would be relevant before I divulged. It became relevant, and I dropped the bomb. He took it quite well, just wishes I had told him sooner. Going along with the secret handshake, I wish there was a magic H ball which would tell you when to tell someone, because I managed to apparently mess up the entire trip. This is one of the few times in my life I actually REALLY regret doing something. I wish I had never gone down there. I don't know if it's because I told him, because I had expectations of him, or if it's because I started liking him more than I intended (and more than he intended), but a royal pile of crap is now following me wherever I go. He is no longer speaking to me, and I thought we were friends. I tried to apologize, but he didn't respond to that. And it's killing me. Did I do the right thing? Right now, it looks like no. A big, fat, no.
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