Sad thoughts during Holy Week

I would like to say that my best friend, D., and I could have a civil conversation on politics.
I would, at least, like to say that we could agree to differ, and at worst, that a safeword could keep the talk from degenerating into a shouting match.
Two years ago, I could have stated these things without fear or shame. I could have said the same, even with his coming out as a conservative, this time last year.
Now? I’m not so sure.
Nine years ago, my friendship with D. hung in the balance, due to differences in religious points of view. We found a way to talk it out, and agree to differ.
At this time, frankly, I find myself wondering if I even want to hang on. A sobering thought: that I have reached a breaking point, and frankly, might not cry so much if I let go.

Really–what the hell is the damage? That I don’t want to smile and nod when he begins with the liberals-are-evil spiel? That I feel humiliated, and even scared, when he goes into full fury mode over the wrongs inflicted on America by the Islamomarxosociofascist coterie? That if I criticize him, I’m the villain?

The worst of it is that he doesn’t need my company as much as I have needed his. And frankly, if I had thought a bit more, I should have begun, long ago, to put out feelers, meet other people, whether in real time or online. And I should have gone much further to reach out to people at my church–not just to see them and say hi. (Such is the clarity of hindsight!)

I feel as if I should light a candle, if only because words stick in my throat. And I am at a loss as to what I could say.


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