August 7, 1996

Journal,

I just got back from the doctor's office. I've had this cough for a while that I haven't been able to shake off, and headaches that won't clear up for days at a time. I wanted to at least get it checked out.

I'm dying.

The doctor said that my T-cells are low, and this "cough" I've had is actually one of the first signs of some abstract form of pneumonia. I really wasn't listening to the technical details, I just kept hearing those two words over and over in my head.

"You're dying."

He sent me home with some new medication, and told me to get plenty of sleep. I just sorta nodded like an idiot and walked out. It almost felt like my legs were moving by themselves. I couldn't think straight, really. Everything was like a blur, in slow motion.

Collins doesn't know about my condition. Hell, he doesn't even know that I went to the doctor. He had some sort of lecture at NYU today, so I went while he was gone. He still is gone. I don't think he'll be back for another few hours.

At least that'll give me time to think about what I'm gonna say to him.

What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to tell people what's happening? When Collins gets home he's gonna want to know what I've done today.

"Hi Collins! How was your day? Guess what I found out today? I'm dying and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

What if he freaks out on me? What if he gets scared? What if he insists that I stay in bed and not move a muscle? What if he dumps me because he's afraid of me, because I'm sick? What if he just doesn't care? I don't think I could get through any of this without him. But am I supposed to just, impose everything on him?!

I guess I can't blame him if he tells me he can't see me anymore, and moves out. I mean, I'm dying. Who wants a dying boyfriend? I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want to lose him either.

Life sucks. I wish that none of this never happened. I wish that I had never gotten AIDS. I wish that I had never gotten sick. I wish that I had never gone to the doctor in the first place. Then I could be happy, and not have to worry about any of this.

But I got it, I did, and I went. And now I'm miserable and confused.

I tried calling Sasha. He always was willing to listen to me, even if he was right in the middle of something. But Measha picked up the phone and said he was out with Shelby.

Damn.

Measha asked if anything was wrong, but I didn't want to talk to Measha. I wanted to talk to Sasha. So I just said no and told him to leave Sash a message for me.

So I'm stuck writing everything down in this notebook and hoping it ends up making me feel a little better. God, I haven't written in this diary steadily for so long. Not since…close to Christmas. A few sparse entries now and then from the past few months. But since I met Collins, it's seemed like everything's gone fantastically perfect, and there's no need to put my troubles on paper.

Now that I think about it, I've imposed pretty much all of my insecurities on Collins since we've been together. Maybe this is gonna be the straw that snaps the camel's back. Maybe this is just gonna be breaking point.

I'm so scared about how he's gonna react. Come to think of it, I'm afraid about how everyone's gonna react. Mimi and Roger and Mark and Maureen and Joanne. To say nothing of Measha and Cor and Cal and Lee and Shelby and Sasha.

Am I gonna die alone? I don't want to. I don't want to leave this world knowing that the people that I cared most about abandoned me when I need them most.

I'm so scared, Journal. I'm terrified. What's gonna happen to me?

The door's opening, and Collins is calling my name. What am I supposed to do?

Frightened and Confused,

Angel D. Schunard