bboi1986

Preface
Never did I thought that my life would be anything worthwhile writing about, actually I still feel that way, but as I have walked this path I have realized that I have many things I want to say. I only pray and hope that my story can inspire others to use my life as an example of what they should or should not be doing. Growing up in poverty with a crack addicted father, a mother working for slave wages, living in a shake, being sexually abused by my aunt and her boyfriend, being a homosexual in a small rural town, moving away to fill a void, abusive relationships, becoming HIV positive and later coming to terms with who I really am; all I can say is what a journey it has been. As I spent many restless days and nights trying to recollect these events to the best of my abilities without being biased I had to deal with emotions that I thought never existed inside of me. so many things I repressed about my childhood, teen years and adulthood came flooding out as if I opened Pandora’s Box. Yet for some strange reason I somehow reached a newfound inner peace from this experience of self-rediscovery. I have no more need to feel ashamed of who I am and what I have done.
I want to give my sincerest thanks to my mother; the woman who showed me love no matter how much I messed up. To my father, the man I hate and the man I so deeply love(ed), may we both one day find peace with one another. My brothers and sister, you are always in my heart. To the people who have used and abused me; thank you because of your hate I have become a better person. To the love of my life; I know you are somewhere here on earth and I’ll find you someday. To the man who gave me HIV; I honestly forgive you because I put my own health in danger when I didn’t insist we use protection. To the men that I may have infected with HIV before I knew my status; no amount of apologizes can erase what I have done, but I hope you know that it was never my intention to hurt you. Finally I would like to thank everybody who is reading my story for you are my inspiration.
· Some names have been changed in order to protect the privacy of individuals.


The South Carolina Years Pt. I
1986 – 2005
Saint Stephen, South Carolina my home, my hell. My earliest memories did not revolve around cherished family holidays or gatherings, but around abuse and drug use. I grew up outside of a small town of about 1,200 people with the majority of them living in poverty. Tolerance and equality were not something that they promoted or accepted there. I guess the best way to start is to talk about how I lived on Snakeman Lane. I lived in a 2 bedroom, one bath wooden house with no insulation with, at its peak, eight other people. my aunt (jane) and her live-in boyfriend (Michael) lived next to us in what can only be described as an two floor wooden storage area. I do remember a few good times that I did have such as a few fun Christmases, but overall it was hell. My brother and I would always call Fridays the “action night” because that was when aunt jane and micheal would get into physical altercations. I remember watching him beat her in the middle of the yard until she had blood running down her face. For most people that would seem like such a tragic thing to have to witness, but for me it was just normalcy. I didn’t know that people didn’t or shouldn’t act like that. The altercations only occurred on Fridays because that was their payday and they would always go out to get high off crack and drunk, then on with the show. My memories of those events are kind of scattered, but I know I was never afraid because like I said before it was just normal for me.
When Aunt Jane and Michael wasn’t fighting they would shower me with attention! They would carry me around everywhere they went and bought me anything I asked for from Toys, candy, clothes, food and even porn. They introduced me to sex and all of its pleasures when I was around six years old. I learned from them how sex smelled, felt and tasted but fuck it I loved it. Aunt Jane would take me to the local video store and take me into the XXX-rated movie section so I can pick out the movie I wanted to watch with them; the nudie movies as she called them. We would go back to their house, lock all the doors, close all the windows and then the fun would begin. At first they would play the video and ask me questions such as, “do you know what is happening?” “do you know what that white stuff is coming out of his pee-pee?”. Of course at my tender age I would respond back by saying they are doing nudie and that was milk coming out of his penis. things later progressed to them turning on the video and then have me watch them have sex. I remember how they would have sex on the bed with me sitting on the end just watching them do what the people were doing in the movies. I can’t remember what my opinion was about seeing that, but I do know that I wasn’t afraid.
This was a regular event for, happening almost every Saturday and Sunday. I remember when they finally became physical with me; it was strange to say the least. I remember Michael was drinking a Bull beer and smoking a cigarette sitting on the sofa with just a towel on, while my aunt was walking around with just her bra and panties on. The usual setting was applied, but this time he took off his towel and I was told to put his penis in my mouth. Aunt Jane said just do what the women do in the movies and, well, I did. Michael didn’t seem like he was to into it, but Aunt Jane enjoyed watching it so I was encouraged to continue. Then we heard the front door opening and micahel pushed me on the floor and covered his self with the towel while my Aunt ran to see who was coming inside. after that tense few moments it was just my older brother Chris who had picked the lock of the front door. Chris was four years older than me and I guess he could tell something was going on because he asked, “what were we doing?” while having a confused look on his face. My Aunt told him that they were just getting dressed and asked what he wanted. He simply said that our mother wanted me to come home because it was time to eat. A few months later I was over my Aunt and micahel house taking a bath with them when Michael told me to sit in his lap. As I did I felt a sharp pain in my ass and jumped up, but he told me that it was ok and to just relax. Without going into graphic details, let just say I experienced anal sex for the first time in my life. I was in a lot of pain and wanted to go home, so my aunt gave my Alka-Seltzer in order to reduce the pain I was feeling. They told me not to tell my mom and well until now I guess you can say I kept that secret.
Now home was only slightly better because it didn’t involve me being sexually abused. My father was heavily addicted to crack and as the years went by it only got worse, but im jumping ahead of myself right. The few good times I remember having with him was when he use to play with chris and I with this puppet that he called George. It was just him doing silly things with it and pretending it was going to eat us. Just thinking back on that I have a big smile and a little tears, oh how I wish that he would have stayed that way forever. I really don’t have to much to talk about when it comes to the early 90’s pertaining to my home life with my parents. Not to say that its not worth talking about, but I feel that it would only be of interest to those involved. So with that said I’m going to skip to the late 1990s (1997 – 1999) to describe the parts that truly influenced the person I later became.

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