I confess: My t-cell count is lower than I've told the group. I don't want them to know. I don't want them to be upset.

I confess: I'm ready to die. I'm not scared or afraid. The only thing that worries me is the thing that worries us all…

Will I lose my dignity?

Will someone care?

Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?

I confess: I've had HIV for a little over four years. An ex-girlfriend called me up and told me she was positive. Since they don't know when she got it, I had to get tested too. And I tested positive.

I confess: I used to be a boxer. Damn good one, too.

I confess: I'm a college drop-out. I dropped out when I was diagnosed. I know I shouldn't let this disease stop my life. That's why I dropped out. I don't know how long I've got and there's no way I'm spending my last days in a classroom.

I confess: I'm a father. The ex-girlfriend who tested positive is also the mother of my baby girl. So far the baby's tests have all come back negative and I thank God for that every single day.

I confess: My only regret is that I probably won't be around to see my little girl grow up. I won't be able to take pictures of her prom dates or hug her at her graduation. I won't be there to walk her down the aisle. Those are my only regrets.