Dum spiro, spero.

I know it is going to be very tough. In spite of all the talk about cowardice of a person who wants to kill himself, it takes a lot of guts to do it. I have to find the strength in me. And to be frank I do not know how?

Of course, I hate myself. Of course I know that I lost my life many years ago when I made the mistake, which appeared to be unforgivable.
I often ask myself the question; was I programmed by the Fate, before I was born, and sent to life, to go through all the pains human person can go through? I kept asking myself why others do not suffer a lot and only some of us must?
Why my weakness became the dominant part of my life? Why it was not my strength, which I have in me. Why it wasn't my music? Why it wasn’t the decisive force in making my decisions?
Why me?
Why had I made all the mistakes?

I know, many of you will laugh and tell me that I am a loser. I know I am a loser. But I want to find one, last strength in me and finish my life with one swift and painless move.
I have good pills at home and I can do it tonight.
Do not get me wrong, because you must know that in spite of all my thoughts and my conviction to finish myself off, I love life and I love to have hope. But I know that I have to die because, in my predicament, life has became unbearable.

Often, before I go to sleep, I am trying to figure out what had happened in my life and when it happened? When my fate had been decided? Was it when I was a child? Or perhaps when my parents took me away from my music school and deprived me of my only love I had and understood?
Was it my disease, which busted my heart when I was 8 years old and my parents decided that I won’t be going back to my beloved music?
What was it, what twisted my life? What happened and when it happened, that my life became one long river of pain?
Why was I born gay? Why I could not be a straight man with wife and children?

I can point the time when my paretns clearly were unable to show me their love. It happened from the day one of my life. I loved them very much and tried to show them that I am the greatest son they ever had, but all my efforts were not good enough. Was it then when, as a young guy I knew what to do with my life and they stopped me from doing it? Was it when they were trying to kill my spirit and love for the music by turning their backs on me and ignoring my success? Critisizing me every step of my way up to the top. Or was it my gayness, which they sensed despite my manliness? Or was it the day in America when I have met Marc and decided to leave my career for him? You must understand that despite my current feelings about what happened then, I loved him and it was my first real love. You must remember I was gay from the day one of my life. When I grew up in Poland and discovered I am who I am I was scared to death, I had to hide my real feelings because then in Poland being gay was like being terminally ill with a contagious disease. So, when I met Marc in Chicago I had clear choices…to love a man for the first time in my life with full and open love and be loved back or, to go back to communist Poland, become a star, get married and pretend to be whoever I was not?
I chose love for the man and betrayed my love for the music. As strange as it may sound I think I am paying for it today. I think it was the mistake of my life.

Few weeks ago somebody told me that I can’t regret anything because I can’t know what would have happened if I went back to Poland twenty six years ago?
Perhaps he’s got the point?
So if he is right why am I suffering today?
Was it written in my book up there?
Should I try to go back to God and ask him for help? But I already did. I prayed tens of thousands of times. I have to say that I did not ask God for my health, or long life. Even when I was diagnosed with AIDS. I only prayed for the happiness in my life, I asked him to give me a reason to smile. I did not care how long my life will be, if he could make me happy just for a month and then take my life I’d thank him for the eternity. After tens of thousands of prayers and the hope he will listem to me, he did not make me happy. I concluded, God does not help people. I concluded that either he does not exist or he does not care about the people he allegedly created.
If, as someone said in one of the bloggs here, God is love, why than I did not experience love in my life? Why I was not loved? Why I had been giving my love for nothing to the people who did not deserve it?

Now it’s too late, I guess. I do not have anybody who can love me the way I would want him to love me. Unconditionally and with passion. When I was ready to die, there in my beloved USA, something told me to give myslef abother chance. I went back to Poland hoping that it will be seen by the God as my attempt to reconcile with the passed and reconnected with what I left twnety six years ago. Very soon, after I arrived here, I found out that people are not sincere and do not treat men like me with respect. I am a man who is not only a homosexual but has “homosexual” disease. I am a leper whose presence here is not welcome. Even among gay people of this country I am a person who is not welcome anywhere. Was it my fault that I told few of my friends, that I am ill? Well, I treated them as my friends and trusted them, wanted them to know that friends mean a lot to me and my trust in them is the highest type of respect. They betrayed me. I found out that I am as strange to them as a Martian man, that they friendship was just a little game, that they hoped for money, which I supposed to have as an American man.
To my dismay I foud out that gay people in Poland discriminate against gay guys like me. Knowledge about my affliction is close to zero here. People do not want to hear or know about anything, which is close to the “unmentionable crime” of being ill with AIDS. Yes, in the middle of Europe in 21st century people do not know anything about the disease. They do not want to know about it. Even doctors do not want to treat us as they supposed to…
I know it is my time to die. My fate did not change. My trip did not make me happy. God did not change my life.
I must find enough strength to do it.
I can’t go back to USA. I have no money. Yes, if I had enough money for a plane ticket I’d leave Poland as soon as possible. I also do not want to be a burden on my beloved Sister. I must go away from here one way or another.
I know, I wrote about killing myself before. But I stopped writing about death because last two weeks gave me a bit of hope. My psoriasis got better and Andreas was good to me. Now hope is gone again. I have nothing and I have been betrayed. I cannot see my future in any colors, even black is gone. I feel empty, dried and ready to disappear.