Written by Shanté Cosme (@ShanteCosme) I'M SITTING ON THE COUCH reading “Joe Biden, Unchained” in New York Magazine. My boyfriend sits opposite me, taking his 50th scroll of Drudge Report for the day.
Anytime we watch the news, one of us is up in arms about the station’s bias. Debates after dinner quickly escalate to arguments about healthcare. And we never fight, let alone scream. It only—only—gets heated when we talk politics. How do we survive in this relationship, let alone through this election? How does any couple overcome such a fundamental difference? Once, when a co-worker discovered that my boyfriend is a Republican, he laughed, like he knew something I didn't (and still might not). You’ll never marry him, he explained, with an uncomfortable amount of confidence. When I consider the weight of dating a Romney supporter, and what that means, it seems like a minuscule aspect of our otherwise easy relationship.
The next morning, the same co-worker sent me an email with a news story about a Democrat's wife who threw her Republican husband's absentee ballot in the garbage. I secretly fear it's a glimpse of the future. This will be my life,
The ebb and flow of our relationship usually follows the advent of new policies like an EKG reading. If bills go to vote, hurdles present themselves accordingly. There was the time when—after an otherwise lovely dinner in the West Village—we got into it over the Chick-fil-A controversy. He is pro gay-rights, but argued that the city of Chicago was wrong to even try to boycott a business for a CEO's beliefs. I argued that in ten years (or hopefully less), gay discrimination will be looked at through the same lens as racial discrimination. It's inherently wrong, I screamed. To say you’re in favor of it is one step from a hate crime!
When I was gearing up to write this, my editor asked me where my boyfriend stands on abortion. Almost as bad as an answer I don't agree with is the reality that I have no idea where he stands on abortion. The truth is, I've avoided asking questions about abortion entirely, because I know that the wrong answer might matter. A lot. Maybe too much. When I get back to my computer, I fire up a G-Chat message, scared of what the answer might be, but too curious to stop myself: heyAre you pro-choice or pro life?
Literally?
I expect a tight race, recounts well into the next day, but suddenly Fox reports Obama as the projected winner. I attempt to conceal my glee, but a squeal of unadulterated pleasure escapes my lips. He glares at me. Don't, he warns. Fox cuts to Obama's convention in Chicago. He flips on Assassins Creed 3
