A woman has shared a deeply personal letter to the love of her life, who died of AIDS 18 years ago, describing how she still carries the grief and has not found a love like theirs since.
In the letter, she recounts their first meeting on a hot African afternoon when he and his friends picked her up as she waited for a bus. She felt safe in his embrace, and her anxieties ebbed away. But soon after, she learned he had tuberculosis and then had to tell him it was AIDS. He accepted the diagnosis silently and took any medication she could find.
She had to leave when her visa and money ran out, and he helped her pack despite his weakening strength. He died six months later, alone in hospital, which has haunted her. She has been HIV-positive for nearly 19 years and has stayed healthy, wishing he could have lived long enough to benefit from newer drugs.
She keeps him in her heart through his family and imagines him with grey hair or a middle-aged waistline. Though the physical hurt and guilt have passed, she still feels his presence in difficult times. She hopes to fall in love again but says she will love him until her dying day.
