Author's Note: Two chapters? Say it ain't so. It is so. Hopefully, I'll get enough reviews to continue. I hate being discouraged. But all I ask is that you enjoy. Thank you.

My Dignity

Gordon Reed's Memoir

Do not expect anyone to understand you. Only you can understand yourself and even that comes with complications.

I went to work today with no energy at all. No one really noticed since we were buried with our own stories and pages. Actually the only person I would let in my workspace was Steve, and that was because we had to work together on the cartoon spread. The silence between us was almost deafening and I wasn't the only one who noticed. He asked if everything was alright. Fine, I said.

When lunch approached, I dropped by the hospital to talk to the doc. I noticed him halfway down the hall.

"Mr. Reed, we have the full report from your blood sample," he said.

"And?" I asked. Please, let it be a misunderstanding, I prayed.

"Please, step into my office," he said. A sudden burn stung behind my eyes. I followed him into his room, closing the door behind me. It felt strange, like I was at the principal's office for pulling the fire alarm. And I had only done that once.

"This isn't easy, Mr. Reed," he said, "but I have to ask you. Are you sexually active?" There he went, beating around the bush. But I couldn't help but become disturbed by his question.

"I have a girlfriend," I said softly. "But she's healthy," I added defensively.

"You have HIV, Mr. Reed. And I suggest you get your girlfriend tested."

My heart stopped. Reality froze. The sounds of the hospital ceased. Even the doctor's voice faded in the background. Seconds became minutes. It took more than a while to digest what he had said to me.

He handed me a manila folder containing the results, but they were all gibberish. He gave me some pamphlets as he lectured about what I already knew. What I already heard about. What I already experienced with friends. Before he sent me away, he gave me a prescription for azidothymidine. AZT.

I didn't want to go back home yet. Kellie would be at work and I would be alone. And I didn't want to be alone. And even if Kellie was there, I didn't know if I could tell her that she... that she could possibly have HIV.

I went back to work. I did all I could to hide the depression in my face, the despondency in my posture. Staring at the blank template on my computer, I submerged in my thoughts. Something was wrong with me. How could I be HIV positive?

Hours passed as I continued to stare impassively at my monitor. I had to have gotten in from somewhere. Not Kellie. I knew it couldn't have been from her. I was the only person she ever had a sexual relationship with and I knew more than anything that she would never betray me. God... then how the hell could I have betrayed her?

I continued to think. I tried to think about past girlfriends, which weren't many. But, they would have told me. They should have told me. It was tearing me up inside.

I couldn't concentrate in this environment. It almost felt as if the walls were closing in. I grabbed my jacket and put it on, tightening it around me. I quickly told Andrew that I was taking the rest of the day off. He would have protested if it weren't for the solemnity in my voice. I shoved my hands into my pockets. I felt the crumpled piece of paper the doctor had given me and the pamphlets I had folded thrice. Before going home, I decided to go to the nearest pharmacy and get it over with.

The long walk was good for me, in a way. It cleared my thoughts. I didn't really think of anything except where I was going. When I had finally reached my destination, my nerves suddenly froze and I got extremely nervous. I kept my eyes on the counter as the pharmacist filled my bottle. I didn't even look up when he told me the price.

I took out my wallet, my fingers quivering. I was so nervous; I couldn't even find my card. Taking out my ID, pictures, coupons, business cards, I finally spotted the blue Visa hiding behind an IOU.

"Is this your girlfriend?" the pharmacist asked, pointing at the picture on the counter.

"Yeah," I mumbled, handing him the card. He gazed at it for a few moments. I suddenly became irritated and swiped whatever was on the counter and stuffed it back in my wallet.

"She looks familiar..." he said, noticing my agitation. He punched in some numbers, and the register began to make the noisiest sounds. "Oh right. She came to pick up a bottle of AZT yesterday afternoon... Hmm... Rotten luck."

It took all my might not to punch him in the face for his vulgar comment. But then it hit me. She was here to pick up AZT?

"Are you sure about that?" I asked lowly.

"Yeah," he said giving me back my card. "She was wearing a pink top and dark jeans. And a beanie on her head. And a scarf. All pink."

That son of a bitch was telling the truth. He described the exact outfit Kellie was wearing yesterday. I couldn't believe she never told me. I couldn't believe she hid it so well from me... she deceived me. I couldn't believe I had been so blind. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I grabbed my AZT and rushed home. All that time, I couldn't help but wonder whether I should forgive her or not. She had ruined my life. But what could she have been suffering? She was obviously embarrassed, but how much did she love me if she kept this away from me? Didn't she think I would eventually find out? I tried to make some sense out of it. There had to be some sense out of it.

It was four o' clock so she would have been home for an hour. I rushed up the stairs, getting to my apartment, and struggling with the knob. Once I got inside, I made sure to lock the door. My hands were shivering again. I had to face her now, but everything in my heart was telling me no. I would still love her. I would still love the woman who murdered me.

"Kellie?" my voice croaked. I called again. "Kellie?"

She appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a towel. Her pretty blonde hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing a silver blouse that made her eyes gleam endlessly. Why was she so calm?

"Gordon, what's the matter?" she asked. She tossed the towel aside and advanced toward me.

"Kellie, I...I..." I couldn't get it out. I was so uneasy. Why was she so calm?

"Gordon, you're home early. What's wrong?" she asked. Her tone suddenly became anxious, apprehensive. "Gordon?"

She was so clueless. She didn't know. I couldn't stand seeing her so oblivious about our relationship. But I couldn't stand seeing her hurt. I told myself before, if I ever had to see her cry because of me, I would kill myself. Kellie, just tell me. It would be so much easier if you just tell me. Then, I'd be able to comfort you and tell you everything would be alright. Why are you so calm?

"Why Kellie?" I asked. "Why?"

"Why, what?" she asked, panicking a bit. She moved closer, but I automatically backed away. I didn't know why I did. She made me feel so nervous. I felt a trickle of sweat forming along my neck.

"Kellie, just tell me," I pleaded. "Just tell me."

"Gordon, tell you what?"

"Please, stop pretending." I got my courage to move forward and grabbed her shoulders. "Just tell me. You don't have to hide it anymore." I tried to look into her eyes, finding some sort of understanding within her soul. For some reason, her eyes seem to set mine ablaze.

"Gordon... Gordon, what are you talking about?" she asked slowly. Frightened. Her eyes glazed. Her voice quaked.

"Kellie, stop lying to me... please," I begged. I tried to sound reassuring. But I was scared too.

"Lying, Gordon... Gordon, you're scaring me, what is it?" she asked. Her lips began to tremble, and I begged silently, to make her stop. Don't make her cry.

"I know, Kellie... I know." I said. "I know; please don't... lie. Don't lie. Kellie, don't cry." Tears rolled from her cheeks. Some unknown frustration, anxiety emerged from my skin. I felt the heat in my veins, the sweat on my face. "Kellie, I know. They said you were there yesterday." I had to stop and take a breath. I turned my head so I wouldn't have to look at her tears trailing uncontrollably from her grey eyes that gleamed so endlessly.

"Gordon... Gordon... I don't know what you're saying," she sobbed. She traced her hand on mine. I pulled away. I couldn't stand feeling her soft skin caress over mine. It hurt so. I thrust by hands into my pockets. I turned my back to her.

"Kellie, I was at the pharmacy today to pick up some pills. The pharmacist said you were there. He said... he said that he saw you pick up a bottle of AZT. Kellie, why didn't you tell me?"

A numbing silence filled the room. A small gasp escaped from her lungs. I knew how she must have felt, to have discovered her secret, and to have me find out this way. I hated it as much as she did. I tried to speak again.

"This...would have gone a lot easier for me and you if you told me you had AIDS. It would have saved me the stress from telling you."

I felt her presence coming near. Gradually I felt her arm slipping around my waist. I felt a relief in my body, happy to know she still loved me. But something felt empty. Her arm ceased to wrap around. She pulled out a pamphlet from my pocket.

"AIDS?" she whispered. I turned to her, slightly confused. The horror on her face only meant one thing.

She didn't know.

"I thought you knew..." I said, terrified. "I thought... Kellie, I thought." She brought her eyes to mine, which held every known fear in the world. Her mouth gaped open and she stared at me, horrified, alarmed.

"How could you do this to me?" she spoke softly.

"Kellie, no... I'm so sorry." Before I could explain, she stormed out. She wouldn't even give me a chance. This was the last I ever saw of her.