She was a goddess in my life. I've known her, and somewhat worshiped her, for 25 years. Since the second grade.
And now I have to let her go.
I've been relieved by some diaries here on Kos, the ones who have said "ENOUGH!" and have let people of influence in their personal lives go into that dark ether that is reigned by hatred, and of course, the fear that inspires it. For isn't that what the hatred for our marvelous Barack Hussein Obama boils down to? Fear?
And we, those of us who I consider the remotely enlightened, are here trying desperately to pick up the pieces for them, our own personal infidels. Even though we do not do it with rumor-mongering and an assault of code and whispers. (Even the cries of "warmonger" at the sight of George W. Bush are not unwarranted and totally disproved, although admittedly we do check our facts before making such claims.)
What hurts us the most? That we can't penetrate our loved ones' allegations with numbers, honest reports, overwhelming stacks of articles, commentary by Republicans' own favorite sons? We've seen what it all comes down to, a "funny name" and a skin the color of homemade caramel. This is all that incites the fury, and bigotry that is taught from the cradle.
This is why I choose to let you go, oh sweet friend of mine, O friend who I can claim brought me from my fragile shell. I can not persuade you into losing your hatred and your lunacy; you trust me with the most intimate of details about your life yet you will not take the sweet moment to listen to my rationale, even about things that I would scheme to protect you from the evil elements of fascism?
My lover, oh the heart of my soul, has come from his own shell of "Gore VS Bush, what's the difference?" to not being able to stand the sound of a grating Palin screeching into a microphone. He had to leave the room for fear of losing his mind that a great man like Barack Hussein Obama be besmirched by a low toad like Rudolph Giuliani. Elders of ours, a 98 year old woman I know, was able to evolve from her long-hidden bigotry of not trusting Barack Hussein Obama into deciding that he alone in this race would be able to deliver America from the gutter and into a time of promise. Why can't you, O beautiful soul sister of mine, be able to do the same?
I mourn for the darkness you live in, I mourn for the cell in which you are enslaved. I mourn for the small children who are being cultivated in the same womb that will not let them breathe in the true light that is the promise any Good God would institute for his children. You pray to the loving Son of God yet you rebuke the very message upon which his mortal frame was slaughtered.
But for all of this, I am most saddened that someone who is framed in such beauty of all things beside this one fatal flaw, that you are missing the New Dawn. That you will not be able to stand with me during this new Turning of the Tide. That you will be enshrouded in the misery and confines of a regime that would have even you reduced to chattel. Chattel, my dearest and now forsaken one. For I can not turn you.
Perhaps the Tide will be so powerful that you will eventually turn to it yourself.
The air is lighter here, the sky brighter. And when you turn, I will be waiting here for you, with my arms open.
For you.