I love you, Al, but I'm afraid you'll break my heart.
I listened to your speech yesterday with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. There you were, standing up and saying the words I've been waiting to hear for five years. By all that's holy, you should have been in the White House instead of that simian usurper, the Kowboy Koward of Krawford. It's hard not to think about what could have, what should have been if you were where you belonged. How different things would be now. Just imagining an America with friends and allies, an America with a Casey Sheehan still alive and a Cindy Sheehan that no one would ever hear of, an America at peace, a prosperous America, a sane America, a balanced America, hurts my heart when I realize what a pipe dream that is.
I struggle every day to deal with the nightmare that America has become, and at the same time struggle to have the will to keep trying, in whatever way available to me, to keep working towards a change; to hold onto the dream when it seems hopeless.
And here you show up, sweep me off my feet, say the words I long to hear, make me all swoony and googly and fluttery with hope and, yes, with lust. I lust in my heart for the country the way it could have been if you had occupied the office you won. It's a physical, palpable yearning that I deliberately don't let myself think about.
I want you, but I can't have you.
Al, I beg you, don't tease me. Don't break my heart. Don't give me a taste, and then leave me hanging. Don't get my hopes up, and then dash them to bits.
Please, Al, - reclaim your office in '08.
Maryscott O'Connor at My Left Wing has a great post about this.