In the Morning (or Mourning)

They say it happens when you least expect it, and after what I went through in my last relationship, I was neither seeking nor expecting it. But it happened.

When we tell a potential new partner that we have herpes, most of us are focused on the immediate fear of rejection.

What if they say no?

What if they’re disgusted by me?

What if they make a joke?

What if they ghost me?

What if they only see me for my diagnosis?

The list of endless questions could (and does) go on. But this time, I ran into something dating had never handed me before when it came to herpes. A pause.

After I encouraged him to make an informed decision about sleeping with me, I found myself navigating what felt like perpetual ambiguity.

When we think of rejection, we often think in terms of an immediate response. While my beau did have confusion and shock when I first shared my status, things slowed to where progression couldn’t happen. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he genuinely didn’t know and had to wrestle with stigma and unlearning in real-time.

The pause went for weeks, and weeks turned into months. I had never navigated this with someone who took such time in their decision. And it wasn’t like we weren’t seeing each other in the in-betweens.

Some dating advice may lead you to, “If they wanted to they would’ve by now.” Or “If it’s not a hell yes, it’s a hell no.” And recommend for you to leave them because of their hesitation. But knowing this person’s background, and my genuine curiosity for their processing, I went with it.

Inevitably, the pressure and tension reached a boiling point. He asked if he was taking too long with his decision. And, even as a patient person, three months was a long time to sit in the push and pull of wanting him and not knowing.