Just say you're sorry for what he's going through, you love him, and you'll be there for him whatever happens.

Then treat him exactly the same as you ever did, until or unless circumstances change.

I'm so sorry to hear it, youngergirl44. In your shoes, I'd try to treat him the same as always, and leave him the privilege of deciding if, when, and how he wants to discuss his health. I know that my late* partner deeply resented having friends and acquaintances treat his health as a public topic, and often the primary topic of conversation. When someone asked about his new shoes or his garden or his dog rather than his prognosis, it was a relief.

*but that was a long time ago, and the treatment and drugs are lots better now.

Exactly what Flo and Elsa said. Listen if he wants to talk about it, but then, treating him the same as you always have will be the best thing you can do for him.

We're all mortal- an HIV diagnosis in a loved one just pushes that thought to the forefront. At least it reminds us not to take our time together for granted.

I think I'm also struggling with my own thoughts on it. I know it doesn't really matter, but I keep associating it with him being gay. I don't know why. I'm supposed to be better educated than that. I can't get over my own bigotry and I don't want him to see that attitude in me. He knows that we disagree a lot about sexuality. I feel like a mean person because there is a small part of me that keeps whispering, 'that's why you don't have unprotected sex'.

youngergirl, I went through this last year with a very good friend of mine. We had one bad night together of being miserable, got shitfaced drunk and cried, and then pulled ourselves together and pretty much carried on as normal. He's taking his meds and is really healthy. We talk about it sometimes, but only usually if he asks me to look something up at work about a drug or side effect or something.

I just let him know that I was always here if he needed me, and that was about it.

I keep associating it with him being gay
...'that's why you don't have unprotected sex'.

Well, which is it? One does not inform the other.

I feel like a mean person because there is a small part of me that keeps whispering, 'that's why you don't have unprotected sex'.

Oh youngergirl, it is a mean thought. And if that is how he contracted it, he must be saying that to himself too. AND It's all probably a lot harder for him.

I'm not trying to dismiss your feelings, it's good that you can admit that emotions are all tied up in your ideas of sexuality. Maybe this diagnosis will open up better discussion between the two of you?

I feel like a mean person because there is a small part of me that keeps whispering, 'that's why you don't have unprotected sex'.

I will 'fess up, youngergirl: I suffered this feeling for years after my late partner contracted HIV. It was complicated in ways that (it sounds like) your situation isn't, but it was substantially the same sentiment.

That voice doesn't go away just because you know it's mean, or just because you know that voice may be ill-informed. It doesn't make you a bad person to hear that voice in the privacy of your own head. It may make you feel lousy --- it did me --- and if it does, that gives you a starting point for grappling with the issues it raises in your own mind.

But the thing is: it doesn't really matter how it happened, does it? When my father died from complications related to emphysema, I didn't cluck, "Well, that's what you get for smoking." I don't think you would, either, though it's undeniably true.

Well, which is it? One does not inform the other.

A little of both, I think. He's very open about what happens in his bedroom. At times it's cool that he's so open, other times it's a little scary. We talk about other aspects of the gay lifestyle, but for him there seems to be an emphasis on the sex.

That little voice does make me feel lousy, Elsa. And you're right... It doesn't really matter how it happened. It happened and that's what we have to deal with.

I came back here to say: I hope that didn't sound preachy. I remember how angry I was, and how I had no one to talk to about my anger, and I ate myself up inside for the ugly thoughts I had. It was poison.

I know your situation and mine are different, and I don't mean to make this about me at all. It's just my perspective on a similar experience; take what's useful and don't bother with what's not.

You don't need to feel bad about the messages that pop up from your secret brain, where that voice is located. If you can work out why your mind sends those poisonous thoughts to your consciousness, you may solve some of your personal riddles. It worked for me.

You didn't sound preachy, Elsa. I appreciate the insight. I don't know if I'm angry, but I am upset, without someone to talk to about my upset-ness. It's good to have you guys as a sounding board.

FWIW, I think it's pretty normal to have some anger at the fact that a loved one's irresponsible behavior has now produced unwanted consequences (as irresponsible behavior is wont to do...). The thought "Why didn't you just use a condom!" is completely reasonable (saying it out loud, of course, is a different matter). Don't beat yourself up about having the thought.

My sympathies. The only thing I'd say is don't feel the need to say anything if you don't have anything to say. Saying nothing but being there all the same can be a very helpful thing.

My adopted little brother (we adopted eachother when he was 12 and I was 17) was diagnosed with HIV in the early 90s. He was going to a lot of raves and doing stupid stuff. The HIV didn't really help him be more responsible, because I think he just figured his death wish was complete and he could do whatever... the future didn't matter. Flash forward and it's 2007 and he's still healthy. Let's just say he's surprised.

It was hard because I love him and always wanted the best for him. But for everyone's sake I really had to just let go of my own feelings and care about him unconditionally. So my approach has been to act like nothing is wrong but that I'm there if he needs to talk about it. This was his life to make choices in, and I'm his sister so my job is to show him support when he needs it. But I'd be lying if I said it was easy. At first I was pretty angry and I've had some serious problems with some of his behavior, but he's not me. It's his business, not mine. We all have to be our own salvation in the end.

I'm just glad that -- despite his best efforts -- he's still walking the earth and probably will be for a long time. With medication nowadays, your friend probably will be too.

My best friend told me he was HIV positive in April or so. I was really angry with him for a couple of weeks.

He's been pretty promiscuous the last five or six years and we'd talked about his sex life, not in detail, but enough that I knew basically what was going on with him. And when he went out of town to spend a weekend with a guy he met online, when other people were a little freaked out about it, I was all like “I trust your judgment and it's your business, anyway”. The point is, all this time I had never asked him if he was always having safe sex because I just took it for granted that he was. I would very occasionally wonder about it when he told me about his most recent fling, but I would always immediately dismiss it with the certainty that he was being careful.

So it came as a shock and when he told me about it he told me that he had not been 100% diligent with safe sex.

The thing is, he and I are like brothers. Or something. We met in college and immediately hit it off and we've been the best friend each of us has ever had to the other for the last sixteen years. We've been roommates several times. We complement each other. For a long time I used to wish I were gay so that I would be sexually attracted to him. I've just always imagined that he'd be around forever, someday we'd be old and in rocking chairs and making weird jokes or having one of our intense conversations.

The idea that he could get sick and die really, really freaked me out. And I just had the hardest time getting over my anger that came from my sense that he could avoided this.

Anyway, he had waited about six weeks to tell me and he had already gone through a lot of the most intense stuff for himself and so he was on a pretty even keel when he talked to me. And I told him in that conversation that I was upset about it and feeling a bit of anger that he didn't take care of himself—I said it very neutrally, you know, just reporting on some of the things I was feeling. He said he understood that.

And I spent the following three or four weeks just getting my head around it. The anger sort of melted away eventually. Interestingly enough, he also since then met a guy who is also HIV+ and they are madly in love—he's happier, and been happier with someone longer, than I've ever seen him. And I'm really, really excited for him for that because I've thought for a long time that a lot of his promiscuity was partly motivated by a kind of loneliness—I did know he was lonely, so I'm not making that part up. Anyway, his happiness now goes a long way toward helping me feel better about him now. And he's in good health, on the meds, and the prognosis these days for HIV is pretty good.

So that's my own experience. I think that if you are honest with yourself and your friend—and keep in mind that if he just found out, he is going through a lot of shit now and he doesn't need you adding to it, so you should put aside your own issues for awhile—be honest about being upset but try not to be judgmental, talk about it and deal with it, it'll go away. Over time you'll be better able to see that these days it really is a manageable illness. Not to minimize it, of course, it requires a lot of life changes and God forbid anyone loses their insurance coverage.

But time and honesty and respect and love will iron the wrinkles out.