I was in a four year relationship with my then-girlfirend. One day we were at a party, my girlfriend was eating potato salad and she got sick out of nowhere. So we went to the doctor, got her to do some tests, and turns out it has nothing to do with the salad but it's HIV. She breaks down, starts crying, telling me about this guy she had been seeing on the side, John. I freak the fuck out, get really mad at her. We have a huge fight over a ton of stuff, all the shit is coming out right now.

We broke up and I get myself tested too. I'm scared at that point. The test comes back negative. Get tested again three months later, just to be sure. It comes out positive. FUCK.

I'm pissed at this point. I find some info about this John guy, find out where he lives. I go full stalker on his ass. Get to know his routine. Then one day, when he is alone and vulnerable I strike. I walk up to him with a baseball bat and ask him: "why the fuck did you give <girlfriend's name> HIV?". He replies "I have just one question for you. Are you ready?" "Ready for what?". "are you ready for sunday night when wwe champ John cena defends his title in the wwe superslam?". Goddammit, I'm fucked now. Things aren't quite going how I want them to.

I'm like "fuck this" and I run away. I get to the street, flag down a cab and get in. I'm safe now. I tell the driver to go to my house and I get there safely. I ask him what the fare is and he replies: "bout three fiddy." Goddammit, it's the fucking Loch Ness monster! So I pay him the fare and he turns out to be a nice guy. All those people eating stories aren't true, or so he told me.

I'm finally safe at home, with HIV, but still alive. Fuck you Cindy.