Karma?

I met this wonderful boy yesterday; we slipped into a conversation and left the building together. He was very skinny and full of wit; he had an easy personality that carried an undertow of No Bithchassness, automatically drawing you into his presence. It was his birthday that night. He was freshly legal, and he had no plans.

We took a walk around the area, he filled me in on his life. By 21, he was a retired model that had travelled the states. He had copious affairs and many heartbreaks, he is fiercely religious and the type that finds extroardinary beauty in the ordinary things. He currently works for one of the top companies in the media industry. Though he has been living on his own since 13 -- his mother kicked him out when she found out he was gay, and he's found ways to support himself luxuriously -- he now has next to nothing. He lives in an SRO (single room occupancy -- aka, shelter), and doesn't have much money to his name. His smile, however, remains infectious, his optimism unbreakable. His chin stays in the air, eyelashes splayed prettily with indifference.

We were standing at the counter of a pharmacy waiting for his medication. While explaining his most recent relationship, his voice broke. "When I found out about my status--" my brow raised -- "everything changed." The edges of his eyes tinged with emotion, he regained his composure and told me the rest of his story. He had HIV. Yet, the way he caught it had nothing to do with his homosexuality. It wasn't from when he worked for an escort service either, they require monthly testing and are adamant about protection. No, his story, it seemed, was more of an ironic twist of fate.

He was making a sandwhich at work. He cut his hand with the knife. At that same instant, he heard a BOOM! in the stairwell. He ran towards the sound and saw his friend lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. In sheer reaction he grabbed him, stayed with him until the ambulance came. A few days later he got a phone call from the hospital asking him to come in for testing, they had some news.

Hm.

Is there such thing as coincidence? The way my life has turned out, I've come to doubt magical "accidents." Even here, I feel that the timing of it was too uncanny.

It's only been a few months since he found out. He accepted my offer to a birthday drink, so we continued our conversation over Apple Martinis and curry chicken. His spirit may have cracked at times, but his will remains whole. He was telling me his countless blessings -- his best friend had returned from Iraq and was there to surprise him for his birthday; his mother had recently accepted his lifestyle and they'd formed a strong friendship; he met the president of the company (THE company!) he worked for face to face -- that strengthened his faith in life.

Even the way we met, on the night of his 21st, seemed planned. Our transition into... friendship, for lack of a better term, was too fluid for it not to be.

I'm wondering what his role in my life is, or vice versa. I'm itching to write his story, but I know that that's not the reason our paths crossed. I don't know how long I will keep in contact with him, and it seems our connection has already faded after the night we met -- I feel nothing inside me saying that we are to be solid in each others worlds. He lost his keys the night he met me, and I hope that isn't a sign of bad things to come.

Either way, I look forward to finding out why the stars aligned us. Stay tuned.