Life kinda seems to be falling apart.

It all began yesterday. In the morning, it came to my attention that Mr. Gill, someone I've known for years and admired, passed away because of some sort of cancer.

My mom didn't let me swim because I was sick. As it turned out, the boys lost by only 4 points to our greatest rivals. 4 points that, had I been there, I would have guaranteed for our team just by swimming. I could have just taken my time. But no, my mom decided that I was too sick, so I couldn't go. I was perfectly fine! I just have a little sniffle, that's all.

I've had a little sniffle about once a month every month for the past few months. I'm scared that it's AIDS ( equivalent of a pregnancy scare), but since writing that the fear has subsided a bit. I'm getting tested tomorrow. Fortunately, the only guy who I REALLY think I could have gotten it from, I didn't have sex with him until recently. So if I do have AIDS, I wouldn't have any symptoms. So that makes it more likely that I'm just sick, and it isn't AIDS. Then again, maybe I have it from him, and symptoms haven't developed yet. Who's to say?

I could get lucky and discover that I'm totally clean. Then I can celebrate, partially because I'm clean, and also because my eyes have been opened and I'm gonna be more careful in the future. :)

When I was worried that I might have AIDS, I went to an old gay chat that I used to frequent. I wanted to talk to my friend there about it, since he had AIDS. We had told each other a lot about ourselves, and I held him as a pretty close friend. I hadn't seen him in about 2 months though. As it turned out... he died in October. That was just the last straw.

I had never seen American Beauty before (SPOILERS BELOW), so I started watching that when I went to bed. It was kinda depressing too, but the end was uplifting at least.. it helped me get to sleep. I feel sorry for everyone in that movie. They were all victims. Except for Lester, who gets killed because someone else can't handle being a victim. But he was free, and that's what I want to be. I honestly don't know who I felt most sorry for. And it was weird... I couldn't relate to any particular character, but I related to pieces of them. Angela didn't want to be ordinary, and enjoyed people looking at her. The only difference between me and her is that I've actually done those things... The guy with the camera, whose name escapes me, reminds me of how I feel at church. I feel different, perhaps a little too unique. And his dad reminds me of mine. It's a little sad.

This morning I got up and went to church. My nose ran throughout the service, but I didn't care much. I still don't know what's up with that guy. I found myself getting teary eyes several times when I thought about Jason and Mr. Gill. The odd thing was that the guy who looks at me would get the teary eyes too. The day I get the nerve to speak to him will probably be the day that I die. I see pain in his eyes that seems to mirror mine, the pain of being misunderstood, of having to lie because people don't understand the truth. I don't know if he's gay or not. I don't really think that my interest in him is about that. I just feel a connection there. I want to know why...