I have herpes.

I don't know this for sure, but I'm pretty certain. It started with itching and tingling. Then I noticed a small painful bump on my labia, then another. I've now got at least six or seven of them, scattered over my labia and with two near my anus. I've had a headache for a couple of days now, the sores are getting more painful, and I've felt a bit feverish.

I cried. I will have this for the rest of my life. The rest of my life. Unplanned pregnancy? Have an abortion. Gonorrhea or chlamydia? Antibiotics. The end. There is no end for this. Only my own. I don't have options. I have herpes. Forever.

Unless someone is lying, neither of the people I've had sex with in recent history have had any symptoms, nor have any of the other people they've had sex with. I last got tested for STIs in late November. My partners have also both been recently tested. Of course, they don't typically test for herpes, but none of us has had symptoms before now. Before me, now. Me, now.

These sores will break, become raw, maybe ooze, then scab and heal, over the next few weeks. This will happen again and again throughout the rest of my life.

A thought I had early on, before sex became something too painful to consider, was will anyone ever want to have sex with me again? Surprisingly, it seems the answer is yes. Guy number one wants us to figure out how we can have sex and prevent transmission [that's assuming he didn't give it to me in the first place...]. A new guy wants to meet for coffee, knowing that I have sores. I told him to try to brush him off but he's still interested. Foolishly so, perhaps.

I was just getting to a point where I thought I might be up for dating. Not up for anything too serious, but something more involved than having a couple of fuck buds. Now I am back to feeling utterly unlovable.

Herpes. I have herpes. For the rest of my life.