Mr. M


Pride March

I would have written an entire blog to express how glad I was to have seen what I felt was the most well-attended Pride March I have ever been into.

I would have posted pics of proud LGBTQIs parading and chanting and having fun.

I would have.


I ended the Pride day with a few friends at a comedy bar, I would have posted more about the night cap.

I would have shared how the three comedians were able to maintain the great mood with their wits and talent.

But I can’t

I accidentally saw a post on facebook. You were tagged on facebook. You died yesterday.  While the rest of the LGBTQI community were out there marching  with pride, you were on a different journey.  In my May 15 blog, I said I will never forgive myself if something bad happens to you.  Now, I write this thinking to myself…

Did something bad happen to you?

I ran upstairs to weep over your death. For me it was sudden.  For me.  But for you,  was it?  I went back to our FB chat where you finally disclosed your status to me on May 15th.  Then, you told me you how you almost died and how you were revived. How a CD4 of 4 recently had you started on ARV.  And at 940 in the evening, you stopped responding to my messages.

October 29 of 2015, I led you on by saying if you needed help, just tell me and I can find ways.  This was brought about by a series of posts where you were saying you were going through some kind of illness.  You said you had nothing to disclose.

May 15th this year, you said it. You said what I wanted you to say and I thought it was an opportunity you were giving me to somehow help you out.  But at around 2 in the morning of the 16th,  my last message to you was, “Don’t push me away again….”

May 16th 1041PM, i said, “Good evening…” No response.

And today, there.  You died on me.

Farewell, Mr. M.

We had some rough times together seemingly dating, or not. On and off  and on friends in FB as a result of some bad convos.  But we always end up as friends. Sweet friends.  I remember the first time we met.  And the times spent in your internet shop in Manila. Or the time I dropped you off in Pasay. Or the times we were talking about your job and your family. Or your smile.

I am sorry I wasn’t there. But I was not there because you never wanted me there. Whatever your reasons were, I respect you. I respect your for at least fighting. I respect you, and you will always be one of the more special people in my life.

Yes, that’s the bullshit I am telling myself for not being there. Now, I cannot even go to your funeral because… well, you never wanted me around during your last months.  I will just assume that.  I had to to make assumptions to keep my sanity in place.

And yes, I cannot bear to see you in a box without breaking down.

So, my dear M,  know that I loved you despite all the tantrums we threw at each other. And know that I am in pain as I write this knowing that I will never see you again. I love you and thank you for sharing a small part of your life with me.

And for what it’s worth, know that I respect you.

Did something bad happen to you?

No,  you are resting now. That’s the best thing that had happened to you over the past year.

Rest In Peace, my dear Mr. M.


About +daddy+drEw+

HIV awareness and treatment Advocate & Activist. Living with HIV since 2007. A friend. A partner. A dad to the HIV Community.
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