My Foolish Heart…?

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Gratuitous Nude of the Day

Photo by sw8i, subject to this creative commons license

Oh, Barrack, For a long time now I’ve been so mad at you! You broke my heart and I swore we were done; our relationship was over. Swore I’d just sit home alone election day in my pajamas and eat Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and watch Sleepless in Seattle half a dozen time.

But I miss you (even if I sometimes hate myself for that). God! How much fun we had in ’08. I was mad about you then, jus head over heels! Oh, those wonderful, inspiring speeches that sent shivers down my spine! Those heady chants of yes we can! that made me swoon. Those huge, adoring crowds! The thrill of our primary victories! You even spoke in complete sentences that made good sense! You made me believe in a presidential candidate for the first time since 1968 and rekindled my faith in America, a faith which had been killed by the assassins’ bullets that year.

OK, I knew it couldn’t last. I was aware governing would be much less passionate than the lyrical campaign. I thought I was ready to tolerate the compromises a President must make – the change from poetry to prose. Still, I wasn’t ready for the magic to end.

Then you did so much that disappointed me: the torture thing, the half assed health care thing, the willingness to cut Medicare and Medicare thing, and that killing citizens thing… Oh, Barry…I felt abused and betrayed. I tore up that signed photo of you and ripped the ’08 bumper sticker off my high milage car. I trashed you to all my friends and wrote you those harsh e-mails. Now I feel a little foolish about the nasty things I said about you; I just did it because of the heartache you caused; I wanted to hurt you back….

 And I cried. I was sure we were done.  

Then, when I though I was finally over you, you flashed me that big happy grin of yours (the one that’s so hard to resist) and talked about basketball like a regular guy… You called that poor law student Limbaugh called a slut. You gave that stemwinder speech to the UAW… You began giving it to the Republicans at last. Barry, you came back…

Can I forgive you? My unthinking heart wants to say yes. It wants to believe you are still that wonderful guy who gave that impassioned speech about race in America. Still that cool dude who came from nowhere to beat the Clinton machine and McCain. Still the harbinger of a better America and not just another lying politician. Still the leader who could make a real change in America.

Will I forgive you? Will you sing to me again of hope? Stir my soul? Speak truth and compassion? Make me believe politics is not all money and hypocrisy? My heart wants to believe you can and, now, maybe I will forgive.

I’m beginning to feel that flutter again, that old excitement. I’m beginning to hope again. Part of me knows you may break my heart again by staying timid in a second term. Right now I’m starting not to care. I’ll take the risk; I crave the feel of that magical intoxication we had four years ago. I’m growing eager to be entranced by your poetry again. I want you so much! Please take me back…

I just can’t quit you, Barry.

Photo by Ken Fager, subject to this creative commons license

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