I'll Be Holding You Taught by Marco Gonzalez

modern day Patroclus and Achilles

marcoags0911 — 2023-12-01 21:17:02 UTC

the 'Bury Your Gays' trope is a storytelling device used in popular media to portray queer romantic relationships as tragic and inevitably grim with a focus on the vicissitudes of queer life. I hope to recount my personal experiences living with HIV as well as the story of my beautiful partner and I's relationship and how it came to be. I chose to title this photo "Patroclus and Achilles" because Greek mythology is my partners' favorite genre of Ancient Greek folklore and the two are iconic male Grecian mythological figures believed to be best friends as well as secret lovers. Patroclus was given to Achilles' father Peleus by the 2nd generation titan Menoetius to serve Achilles as a squire. The two boys grew up together, played with one another, fought alongside each other and became very close friends. The two were never in a committed monogamous relationship of any kind, but they were still romantically involved and cared deeply for one another. One day, during a battle against the Trojan prince, Achilles refused to pursue the opposing side any further and let his men die in battle, however, Patroclus could not stand idly by and watch as his people died and witnessed Achilles' callous and cowardice approach to battle. Because of his passion and drive, Patroclus climbed into Achilles armor and dove into battle. Patroclus was successful in his mission to save the soldiers, but was killed by the Trojan prince as the prince mistook Patroclus for Achilles due to the armor of Achilles that Patroclus had on. Achilles, witnessing the death of his lover, fell into a great fit of grief and guilt for he felt the weight of the responsibility of his lovers' death. This unfortunate story of two queer lovers is one of many that depicts the 'Bury Your Gays' trope and illustrates how even in ancient times, queer romanticism was something to fall victim to disaster.

heated, skin to skin

marcoags0911 — 2023-12-01 21:23:13 UTC

When I first met my partner Henry in the summer of '22, it had already been 7 months since I was diagnosed with HIV. My sense of romance and what I believed I deserved in a relationship was completely corrupt. I had already been on a couple dates before meeting Henry and with each person I met, each time before getting intimate, I needed to give the heads up I had practiced night after night in my bedroom: "I need to tell you something...I have HIV, but I'm on medication and am completely undetectable, so you can't contract it if we have sex. I know that's a lot to process and I'm more than happy to answer any questions you have". I tried to lessen the blow as much as possible. I was so apologetic every single time I needed to repeat those rehearsed lines because I was still ashamed of myself. I prepared myself for rejection each and every time and each time I was rejected, blocked, or ghosted, I thanked myself for the preparation. I thought my shot at romance, the experience of love and devotion to a single human being who brought out the best in myself, was gone...and then I met Henry. It's your typical modern day love story, really. I was on the dating app 'Hinge', scrolling, swiping, scrolling, swiping, scrolling, swiping, and so on. And then I came across Henry's profile. I felt my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest as I was absorbing every detail of their profile through my tiny screen. They seemed so confident, smart, artistic, kind and humble, and they were the most beautiful person I had ever seen. After sending a heart and getting a response, we immediately clicked and sorted out a first date. We picnicked by the lakefront in downtown Chicago, the spot is called "Promontory Point". We laid on a blanket, listened to music, ate fruit, cheese, peppers, chocolate pretzels and sandwiches and just talked and talked for hours. It's safe to say we had an incredible time together and that our first date was a catalyst for many many more to come. When Henry and I got to know each other more intimately, I was falling more and more in love, and then came the day we decided to take things a bit further. I was already incredibly invested in further building our relationship that when it came time to tell them about my status...I didn't. We had sex together and it was only afterwards that I told them about my HIV. They were completely understanding, comforting and educated on what it meant to be HIV positive. However, even with their support, I was incredibly disappointed in myself for not mentioning my status beforehand. That was an extreme fuck up in my eyes and although they didn't seem to mind, I was mortified. I was terrified at the thought of being rejected by someone I was falling in love with that instead of standing my ground, I was a coward. We've been together for almost 10 months now and even though it's a long distance relationship, we make it work and it has been the most fulfilling relationship I've ever been in. I feel incredibly loved, respected, and elated to be with a person that makes me feel as content and happy as Henry does.

planning my death

marcoags0911 — 2023-12-01 21:23:31 UTC

Before I was diagnosed with HIV, I was sleeping around with as many men as I could, planning hookups on Grindr while simultaneously planning my death. I say that because having unprotected sex is what led me to contracting HIV, along with Syphilis prior to my HIV diagnosis. I almost titled this photo "unknowingly planning my death", but I knew exactly what I was doing and the risks that came with it. I knew that having unprotected sex, not getting regularly tested and waiting until I felt sick to do anything was wrong, but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy sleeping around. As a young queer man, I've felt objectified by the gay community my entire life, but I loved the attention, I loved feeling wanted and I was addicted to the thought of knowing that if I could pleasure a man he would value me. There's a lot of power that comes with being young and queer, but there's 10 times more danger and risk. I never found out who gave me HIV because I was sleeping with someone different each day, but I'm not going to play the victim card and say that I was taken advantage of because I put myself in these situations. If this were any other time period in history, I would be dead. I would've been known as nothing but a young boy who slept around and eventually got himself killed. I was severely depressed after my diagnosis and was constantly mulling over taking my own life. I felt so much shame, guilt, embarrassment and disappointment that it all became too much to handle. Anytime I told a guy I was HIV positive I was blocked or talked down to and made to feel stupid. I've recovered since then and I'm so unbelievably lucky to have access to medication like 'Biktarvy' to help keep my HIV under wraps and protect myself and my partner Henry. I wish it didn't need to be this way though. I've come to terms with my diagnosis after these last 2 years and have come to accept it, especially with my family's and Henry's help, but it's still difficult not to think about the "what if's" sometimes.

corpse engulfed in remorse

marcoags0911 — 2023-12-01 21:28:17 UTC

I can whine, complain, and blame the American education system for failing me as a young queer person (which it did) but I knew what HIV was, I knew about STD's/STI's, I knew how to be safe and yet I chose not to be. I'll always remember the day that I was diagnosed with HIV. I had been sick for almost 4 days straight and only feeling worse as the days passed. I knew that something was wrong with me when none of the over-the-counter medicine I was taking was working and I couldn't keep any food down. I asked my mom to take me to the emergency room. I remember having a feeling that it was something STD related, because even though I may have been reckless, I wasn't stupid. I remember being taken to a room with a bed and medical equipment and a nurse asking me about my sexual history. She ran a lot of tests and gave me a lot of injections for any STD's she thought I could have had. My mom had told my aunt Lelis that I was in the hospital, so she came to visit me. I broke down in tears and explained to my aunt how at that point I knew that it was something serious. The hospital kept me overnight as they waited for the test results to come back. The next morning, my mom came into my hospital room and shortly after, an infectious disease specialist entered the room. He asked if I wanted my mom to stay in the room with me and I said 'yes'. He didn't hesitate one bit as he told me "Your results came back positive for HIV". I laid there silent, avoiding eye contact with my mom who also sat there silent. While my mom and I both looked at the doctor speechless, he proceeds to, for whatever reason, explain how he had so many good friends who died from HIV back in the day and how it could have been completely avoidable had I been on PreP. I was shocked, nauseous, and angry that he was essentially trying to make me feel guilty and ashamed of myself for having contracted HIV...and it worked. It was exceptionally difficult hearing the news with my mom in the room because she's also HIV positive. She's been positive since before I was born and I remember her telling me how worried she was that my siblings and I would be born with HIV. She was so grateful that we all came out healthy and negative. I felt like all of her worries and the hard work she put into making sure I would be safe as her baby was all in vain and it was all my fault, because I was naive, because I thought I was invincible.

"Promontory Point"

marcoags0911 — 2023-12-05 06:52:52 UTC

It's been a little over 2 years since I was diagnosed with HIV. It's been a rush of trials and tribulations, but I'm in a happy place right now. I feel more confident in who I am and who I want to be and even though my confidence may get rattled sometimes, I have a strong support system behind me. My entire family has been extremely supportive, and I'm eternally grateful for their open-mindedness and unconditional love. I'm also forever indebted to my two older, queer siblings for paving the way for me to live my authentic, queer life and for always providing their wisdom and advice. Finally, I'm incredibly thankful for my partner who has been there for me through all my hardships and tears. I never thought I would find someone in my lifetime as outstanding and breathtaking as Henry James Tyson. They are on my mind and in my heart every minute of every day and I have never felt so spiritually and emotionally attached to a single human being as I do to Henry. The two of us are in a long distance relationship which can be very emotionally taxing and strenuous at times, but we make it work. Henry lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota and I live Chicago, Illinois. The drive is about 6 hours, but when you have music blasting and the only thing on your mind is getting to see your partner after not seeing them for weeks, the drive time just zooms by. Our love for one another has never wavered, I genuinely feel like I've found a soulmate in Henry and I feel like our relationship itself is a direct "fuck you" to that stupid 'Bury Your Gays' trope. I have HIV, my partner and I are long distance and we're both queer as hell, but we're making it work and it's been the most beautiful experience and I wouldn't change a single thing.