When Politics Divide

    The three of us were so close in college that our closets became one. At the end of the year we weren’t sure who owned what. We had supported each other through midterms and finals. Cried through loves lost and found. Then we graduated and geography separated us, with the years bringing marriages, kids, and careers.
     We hadn’t been together for decades, so you can imagine my excitement when we gathered for a breakfast that lasted until lunch. Our table filled with stories of “remember when,” followed by deep laughter.
     Then one person brought up politics, and the other jumped in enthusiastically. She was onboard with everything the first said.     I wasn’t. I remained silent and hoped they’d move on because I didn’t know how to express my cautions.
     But they noticed my reserve, and I was on the spot. I struggled for words. The room turned hot and frosty at the same time. They didn’t understand me.
     We left each other awkwardly. They gave big hugs, but I sensed I was suddenly “suspect.” The ties that had bound us tightly had loosened. Was I falling out of the picture of our friendship?
     Since then, we’ve texted articles to explain our views. And here’s the strange thing - we want the same results, but we place our hope in different means to get there.
     I know they’re partly right and I’m partly wrong - that’s how conflicts play out. But are we so cemented in our views we can’t hear each other? Will partisan beliefs kill our friendship?
​     I don’t know. And my heart aches.