Mastering Disappointment: A Kamala Harris Love Affair
Kamala had the great benefit of a fantastic summer romance working in her favor. A short lived, white hot affair that would end before it could burn out. With about three months from candidacy to Election Day, I wouldn’t grow tired of Kamala. Neither would America. The joy she and her campaign were trafficking would carry us to a victory. Then we could settle into the day-to-day doldrums of romance. Probably fall out of love and elect someone else in 2028.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?