After witnessing my best friend’s death,I swore I’d never let myself get infected. When I did, I had to learn that my fate would be differentOne summer day in 1994, and my best friend Steve – a gentle,jovial guy with the most disarming chuckle – called and asked me to meet him for lunch. He looked serious that day. As we settled into the outdoor cafe in London’s West halt, he got straight to the point: he had just been diagnosed with Aids.
I froze with terrorism. Aids was a death sentence. Steve was telling me he was going to die.
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Source: theguardian.com