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And then, definitely aloud: “I have herpes.” Silence. “But before you freak out,” I said as casually as I could, “let me tell you about it.” “The transmission risks are tiny,” I started, and they are: about 2–4 percent from woman to man, depending on condom use. I’d worry about how to escape this foreign part of Brooklyn later. Bye then,” I said, stepping toward him, him, a body shellshocked on the bed. So I made a sort of ill-informed compromise with my sexual cravings: everything but. Down there, I looked and felt the same as I always had. And then one day at the office I met him, a tall, dark-haired, sunkissed drink of coworker water. Thanks to herpes, I took things slow, until the temptation to make things NSFW grew too strong.

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Consult a health care professional if you have any doubts about what's safe and what is not.

For example, you could try mutual masturbation, which poses almost no risk: You could masturbate together -- side by side, facing each other, or back to back -- or masturbate each other manually.

Just another house party hookup, with a casually consistent partner for whom I felt nothing. “Come see me again if things get worse,” she said, shooing me out the door. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t be strong enough to take the type of rejection that I figured was in store for me. But I knew deep down that I’d want to disclose to my partners.

If I felt stigmatized by my computer, how many hundreds of exponents worse would it be to tell someone I cared about, face to face? I’d just join a nunnery, or maybe devote my sexless lifetime to a more constructive pursuit, like academia or woodworking. I polled my closest friends, who varied in their advice. The odds were too low to even consider it a big deal, she said, especially if I never have another outbreak. So many people have herpes and HPV and gonorrhea without ever knowing it.

I could barely spread my legs in the stirrups this time — partly from the pain, mostly because I didn’t want to hear what I knew was coming. “Well, it looks like you do have herpes, you poor thing.” “But I didn’t even have sex! Finally, she told me I needed to calm down so I wouldn’t scare everyone in the building. “It’s not like I’m telling you you have HIV.” *** There are fenced-in corners on the Internet for people like me. Over and over again, my Google searches reinforced the burning shame of having herpes.

” The nurse tried in vain to console me: patting my hand, then giving me an awkward hug. This was my future, I thought immediately after being diagnosed.

*** Telling people about it still isn’t easy or fun, but it’s my own magic Hogwarts-esque sorting hat.

” My next boyfriend, to my surprise and delight, disclosed his own herpes to me.

“I know where the train is.” I didn’t; it was the first lie I had told all night.

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