i know better

looking back on my life, my so-called "past life," i now know i took you for granted. i somehow knew that you'd always be there for me whenever a crisis arose. i probably didn't tell you very often that i loved you, that i appreciated all of the times together we had shared, that i liked you for being just who you are. now i know.

i never really thought about what my life was, or what it would become without you. i never knew how to acknowledge the worth of another person: it's not something you pick up off the street as one might learn about sex that way. i was always quick to pity those who had been infected. i never knew that they had the hardest struggle to get through life. now i know better.

i never knew what it was to have people be afraid of me, to hesitate to hug me, or to turn a cheek on a kiss. i never knew how to talk to people about living, or about dying. i never believed that i would ever have to make every single moment count; that i had a limit to my life. i never knew what it was to have hope, or faith, or joy or sorrow. now i know these.

now i know that i'm infected, i know all these. i know that i must tell you i love you as much as i can, because isn't that the biggest regret people have about death; not having told someone that they were loved? and i know i would regret passing through that door and not having told you i love you.

now i know that i am infected, i know how to say many things. things such as "thank you," "i miss you," "yes," "no," "please," "i'm sorry," and most of all, "i'm so glad you are my friend."

you see, it is because i am infected that i have finally decided to talk. and it is also because i am infected that i have finally decided to live. now i know how.

j. west :: february, ninety-five

i miss you vern, margie, michael, kevin, donn, david, alan, tim, and most of all, gregg. thank you for the lessons.