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I remember the moment when my first real love died.

The relationship had been on life support for about a year. I had wanted out, but I couldn’t bring myself to say so. And then one autumn afternoon, everything ended. Even though I had wanted it to end, I felt a pain unlike anything I had ever felt. This must be a mistake. But it was over.

Years later, another love ended. There had been other loves along the way — smaller loves, maybe —  but this one felt more powerful and more real than anything I’d ever felt. Things got complicated. I backed out of marrying her. She moved on. Things got messy. The pain was even more intense than the losses that had come before.

I thought there would never be anyone else. Unexpectedly, there was. It was someone I had casually known in the past. She sent me a message out of the blue. Before long, I had fallen head over heels for her. She said she loved me and wanted to marry me.

And then — suddenly — she didn’t want a future with me. There was no explanation. Not then. Not ever.

I was left feeling all alone. Missing someone I couldn’t have. More hurt than I had ever been in my life.

But despite the pain — and despite the pain that had come with the end of every love so far — all I wanted was to fall into the grips of love again.

Against all of my experience, I believed that love could finally come and stay. For me.

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I no longer take politics seriously.

My years of experience working in politics cured me of the childhood training which had taught me to respect politicians and their offices. I saw what they were behind closed doors. I saw what the system was really like.

I learned that becoming enamored of a politician — of any party — was a bit like thinking that the stripper who’s taking your money at a strip club really, really likes you.

You can see politics as a strip club or a brothel, but I tend to see it as a circus instead. It’s like a full-time televised circus in which various clowns are competing for your attention and adoration. And the prize they collect at the end of each election cycle is the right to run your life until the end of the next election cycle.

It’s pretty insane if you realize what’s really going on.

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There are two men who live inside me.

One man is the most rational person you know. He’s deeply logical and focused on objective reality. Just the facts. This man wants to have his affairs in order and live in ways he can be proud of. He wants to be a good man above all.

But there’s another man inside of me, too. That man is deeply emotional. He believes in magic. He trusts his intuition. He values love and connection above all. He would do anything for the right kind of love.

There are times when the hyper-rational man is in charge. He gets a lot of things done. He’s hard-working and he’s capable. Many people admire him for being smart and reasonable.

But there are times when my heart is open and there seems to be a portal open to some sort of fantastic world of wonder instead. And when that man is in charge, he feels like taking risks and making magic happen — if he just knew which magical words to say.

He’s waiting for something inexplicable to happen. Any moment now.

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