My mother used to volunteer at this place called The Living Room or something - it was a drop-in center for (almost exclusively) men living with HIV/AIDS. I was extremely independent for a 10 year-old boy (I would move out on my own 5 years later), and I was curious about this place, so I went in. I told them who I was, and asked if they had any information I could read. They gave me some pamphlets and I sat in the reception area to read them.

A guy came in, sat down, and we eventually started talking. We introduced ourselves, and he seemed surprised when I offered to shake his hand. We shook hands and he started low key crying. He said it was nice to see a boy my age that was not afraid to shake his hand. I guess it gave him hope for the future. I spent the afternoon there - people had a lot of stories they wanted to share. Man, those guys went through some shit.