The Unrequited Love of Politics

On this Valentine's Day, spare a thought for those unfortunate souls whose fondest love has left them behind. I talk not of the thrilling romance of a new partner, nor of a happy marriage ground to dust and regret by the harsh wheel of time and circumstance. But rather, the poor folk who have begun to realize that Politics, despite the effort, time, and heady passion they have invested, has decided to pack her bags and leave.

Politics, that glorious love that begs us to her embrace each morning over a hot cup of coffee. Whether our paramour appears on the TV, the PC, or our cellular ball and chain, she beckons us daily and provides the thrill of a vicarious life in which we have all played some small role. A constant companion throughout the years, she, like you, has changed … yet there was always that spark, that ember,  that remained through her many transformations. But not anymore.

This year, Politics – that Devil in a blue dress, or a red dress – has decided that she no longer needs you. She has outgrown you and your childish ways, your petty demands for accountability, your belligerent insistence that you be involved in the decisions that impact you both.

And now you are alone.

You cling to the words of Walt Whitman, as he assures us that this may be just a temporary split: "I Think it is lost... but nothing is ever lost nor can be lost. The body sluggish, aged, cold, the ember left from earlier fires shall duly flame again."

You have a hope that one day, she will come to her senses and realize that she was wrong to leave you, wrong to try and recreate herself after you have faithfully believed in and supported her for so many years. You hope she will come back home. You pray for it, yet in the back of your mind, you wonder: Will she be better off without you?

Politics, she galavants through the Swamp, untouched by the mud that surrounds her, heading in directions you never discussed. Like an artist's brush let loose by the Magician's Apprentice, she paints new laws in her wake where none before existed; she makes criminals where no crimes had been committed. She is unleashed and unchained like never before, and she revels in that freedom.

But do not weep for the past you once shared, for I know a secret. She was the lover but not the love. Your passion will return, as grand and as consuming as ever before. And in that passion, you will see the seed of her. She will return reborn, like a phoenix from the ashes, and once more carry you to greater heights. As Dylan Thoma once wrote, "Though lovers be lost, love shall not; And death shall have no dominion."

~

Read more from Mark Angelides.