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.In this week’s “The Boy with the Rainbow Scarf,” Brent shares a story as told to him by an acquaintance.

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I’ve always been attracted to older men my whole life.

There’s something about being able to dominate a man who’s much older and more experienced than I am. It just turns me on so much. I mean, think about it! This older man, is on his knees… making sure that you’re satisfied with his service. That shit is freaking hot.

When I was a bit younger, when I was about 26 years old, I got myself into a predicament which I could not seem to get myself out of. You see, I had fallen in love with a married man. We had been seeing each other frequently (by that I mean, I had been frequently making him my personal cum dump).  After a while, I started catching feelings for him.

I noticed that whenever he didn’t text me, I would get very upset. Even at work, his well-being came as a priority above any of my tasks. Is this it how it feels like to be in love with someone? Caring about the person’s life before your own… constantly thinking about them throughout the day and night.

It sucked knowing that there was this boundary that I had to respect. I could not text him if he was with his family or his wife. To know that he would never leave them for me  was horrible but what was even worse was that I had actually wished so.

He’s married for God’s sake.

For me to want him was wrong. It was wrong, plain and simple. I come from a broken family, my dad left my mom and I for a much younger woman… and ever since then, I’ve always hated him for that reason but look at me now, wanting to be with someone else’s husband, someone else’s father.

The feeling that I was experiencing… I was not even sure if it was love but if it was, then I wonder why God would have a sick sense of humour.

The days passed into weeks and then into months. My relationship with him became even more complicated, at least for me it felt it was getting more complicated. I knew he could tell that I was getting serious with him but he ignored these feelings of mine.

It got me even more aggressive in bed with him which obviously made him beg for more. That made me question my self-worth… Was I just good for rough sex? And nothing else…?

I finally mustered the courage to sit him down and I confessed my feelings to him. It felt liberating to be honest… almost like I was bearing the world, my heart. Unfortunately, when you do this… you might be exposing your heart to the wrong person and they might just rip that heart of yours into shreds.

I had expected him to turn me down but to completely block me out from his life? That was the thing that he did that which hurt me the most. He got out from our hotel room and left me there. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the hotel’s wall for hours, trying to digest what had happened.

Regardless, no one likes to get rejected. It felt like my heart was stabbed a million times with a bread knife. That feeling… that pain… was overwhelming.

Months passed by and I had started to feel better. All wounds heal in time, I guess. But something unexpected happened.

Yesterday, I walked into my preferred clinic to get my monthly PrEP pills. Then I saw him – the guy who broke my heart.  He was standing right there talking to the nurse! I was feeling conflicted, unsure what to do at that point. Run away? Confront him to make him see that I’m doing good without him?

My mom didn’t raise no pussy. I steeled myself and strutted my way over to him, looking confident as all Hell. I “accidentally” bumped into his shoulder, pretending that I didn’t see him. He turned around and his face turned pale. He dropped something onto the floor.

I tried to pick it up for him but he had quickly grabbed it. I’ve been taking PrEP for a very long time, I go to that clinic regularly to get tested and I have met a lot of people from various walks of life… I knew what he was trying to hide from me. I knew what medication he was trying to hide .

It was HAART.

I, of course, didn’t pry too much about it. I said hello and asked him how his life was going. He told me that everything was fine. His family was doing good but his wife had to go to the hospital often.  Although he did not state the reason for that, and I did not ask, I had a fairly good hunch.

Then he told me that he missed me (maybe it was more like he missed my dick!). He then told me that he has been regularly having sex with random guys, trying to find someone who is as good like I was.

I know him… I know him too well. He loves getting cream-pied. So I asked him if he did ask the boys whom he let fuck him if they’re on PrEP?

He didn’t.

Apparently, he thought that since I do it often… it would be safe for others to do it as well. I then explained to him that the only reason why I could do ‘that’ was that because I was on PrEP. PrEP protected me and still protects me from getting infected.

He just nodded his head and smiled. It was a sad smile.  He said, “I wish I had known that earlier.”

He then shared with me what happened after he left me. It turns out, I was right. He was diagnosed positive for HIV and that he didn’t realise it until he infected his wife. His wife found out about everything shortly after that… and I mean everything!

He is now divorced with no kids and no wife. He looks like crap, by the way, maybe because he hasn’t been taking care of himself.

He held my hand as tears started rolling down his face. He apologised to me and asked if I wanted to start over with him.

That was it. The moment I was waiting for. If this had happened before he dumped me, I would have said “Yes!” faster than a bullet but let’s be real. Ladies and gents, regardless of what their sexual orientation or status is… if you take back someone who has dumped you and hurt you, you need to check your self-worth, honeys.

Now that he has hit rock bottom, he wants me back? How convenient for him but I’m sorry ma’am, my mom didn’t raise her son to accept hand-me-downs. He can sashay away for all I care.

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