An involuntary sob escapes as I flip it open. Stacked inside are a bunch of computer printouts, each a few pages long and stapled. A note is paper-clipped to the top.
Kate,
When you told me you’d never date a Republican, I knew the day would come when I’d need to make my case. So I started building one.
I know you have concerns, but for now, I have enough confidence for the both of us.
Ben
Tears blur my eyes as I unclip the note and see the headline on the top printout:RELATIONSHIP SURVIVALTIPSFROMPOLITICAL OPPOSITES.
I leaf through the rest:POLITICSCANMAKESTRANGEBEDFELLOWS.HOWMIXEDPOLITICALMARRIAGESSURVIVEELECTIONSEASON.HERE’SWHYYOUSHOULDDATEAREPUBLICAN,EVENIFYOU’READEMOCRAT.(The one that makes me laugh out loud?REPUBLICANSAREHAVINGMORESEXTHANDEMOCRATS, SURVEY FINDS.) There are ten or fifteen articles in total, including profiles of several prominent power couples with opposing political views: the unlikely marriage between a conservative strategist and a liberal news commentator; a former first lady who quietly donated to progressive organizations while her Republican husband was in office; the conservative media mogul who married an activist movie starlet.
I spend the next half hour devouring everything in the file. The articles delve into the psychology behind “politically mixed” relationships, citing communication, common ground, and mutual respect as the keys to making it work, but it’s Ben’s handwritten notes scribbled in the margins that take my emotional state from precarious to downright unstable.
On avoiding getting into unwinnable arguments, he’s written:Now you know why I don’t want to debate you.
On not judging each other’s character for a difference of opinion:I respect your opinions, even if they’re not mine.
On healthy debate being good for your sex life:Desperate to find out.That one’s double underlined.
I check the date of his note and want to weep—it was sent a week and a half ago, the day after I gave him a hard time about his refusal to engage. Before our fight.Before I ruined everything.
I flash back to the moment in his office when I first discovered this file, so long before he confessed his feelings, and my breathing goes shallow. The thought of Ben researching ways to make our relationship work—before there was even a relationship to speak of—makes my heart shatter into a thousand tiny shards of glass.
I set the last article aside with shaking hands, my chest feeling like it’s been hollowed out. I glance across the atrium and when I see Ben’s office is dark and deserted, regret and raw panic begin to claw at my throat.
I gather the file and my things in a rush, somehow managing to stave off my Category 5 meltdown until I burst through the door of my apartment. I head straight for my fridge and liberate a bottle of wine, then end up staring at it on my kitchen counter while memories of all the times Ben’s saved me from myself wash over me. He would hate that I’m self-destructing like this.
Finally, I cave and call my mom. The story pours out of me in fits and starts, through wracking sobs and gasping hiccups. When I finish, I’m met with silence.
“Well, what do you think?” I release a shuddery breath. “You think I’m a complete idiot, I’m sure.Ithink so.”
“No, I think you’re wonderful.”
I laugh sardonically. “I’m clearly not wonderful.”
I abandon the wine and move to the couch, flopping down and hugging a pillow to my chest—then throw it to the floor because in yet another indignity, it smells like him. “What are you thinking over there? I need earplugs for your silent judgment.”
“I’m thinking Ben’s got your number. Which, I might add, I knew after one minute of watching you two together.”
“Would you like a medal?” I mutter.
She sighs. “Katie, you’ve waited your whole life for a man to show up for you, and what do you do when he does? You run the other direction! It doesn’t take a psychology degree to see what’s going on here, sweetie.”
“But can a relationship even work with such different belief systems? I mean, sure, we like each othernow, but once the newness wears off and we don’t agree on any big issues, then what? I’m terrified of getting invested in something that’s just going to crash and burn.”
“You’re so focused on protecting yourself from future disappointments, you can’t see what’s right in front of you! Look, do you respect Ben?”
“Of course I do. He’s brilliant and compassionate and kind, and that’s why I can’t understand how he can support the things his party is doing!”
“Doyouagree with every position our party takes? I know I don’t. Life isn’t so black-and-white, Katie. It’s messy and gray and complicated. Ben isn’t just one thing, and neither are you. Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who complements you? Someone who isn’t afraid to gotoe-to-toe with you? Stop focusing on what could go wrong and start focusing on what’sright. Or left.” She pauses. “Get it? That was a political joke.”
“I got it.”
“The point is, you can disagree with someone and still love them. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
When I don’t respond, her voice softens. “I know you have this mental checklist with all these boxes just waiting to be ticked. Follow this roadmap, end up with the perfect life.” She laughs ruefully. “But maybe leave yourself open to some of life’s surprises. They turn out pretty great sometimes.”
