We had been dating for just a month. I was at work. He texted me saying he had found a lump “down there,” but not to worry.

But it didn’t get better and his symptoms all made us both believe he had something. He scheduled an appointment for both of us at a free STD testing center. “How many partners have you had?”“Five.”“Have you ever had anal sex?”“Yes.”Judging glare. After another round of questions, I got a lecture about abstinence. I wondered if he was getting the same lecture as me. Except his number was way bigger than five. I could only imagine the look of horror on his nurse’s face. We waited patiently for results. He held me close, made me feel safe and loved. He wiped away my tears and told me we would be going through it together, that there was at least comfort in having each other.

Negative. The results were negative.

But they didn’t test for herpes. We would have to go to hospital and pay for that test. He insisted we go. But I didn’t have any symptoms. The negative test results were what I wanted. I didn’t want to go back in. I scheduled my own appointment. He didn’t have health insurance. He couldn’t afford it. He would just go off of my results, he said. Then I had a breakout. Could it be stress? This is all I had been thinking about. But I had my appointment. The nurse gave me hope. “Is this your first breakout?”“Yes,” I told her. “Well this doesn’t look like herpes.” She listed off other, less-harmful things it could be. I had hope. I had just freaked myself out. There was nothing to worry about. Results would be given in two weeks. I received a phone call. The doctor asked for me. “You have herpes type 2, HSV-2, or genital herpes, as it’s most commonly called.”We were in his truck on our way back from lunch. I started crying. “Is it the doctor?” he whispered as he grabbed my freehand. I nodded yes and listened to the doctor tell me about this new virus I had in my system. He held me while I shook. “We’re in this together,” he kept saying. I didn’t feel any better. He dropped me off at work. I played it cool as best I could. After work there was a teddy bear and the book “Jitterbug Perfume” on the hood of my car. He was trying his best. That night, I told him I loved him. He had been saying it already, but I finally felt like saying it back. I needed to feel loved. We needed each other. I hadn’t been planning on anything too serious with him, but it seemed like we were in it for the long run now.