A Scene That's Undoubtedly Being Played Out Across The Country

As we sift through the rubble of Tuesday's devastation, I fear one unreported casualty of Trump's election is the destruction it is causing in relationships. The sheer divisiveness, the gaping rift this election has opened in the country has caused many a difficult discussion and unfortunately, I suspect, the dissolution of more than one long-term friendship.

This hit home on Wednesday when I received a text from one of the few real friends I made during our tenure in Denver, a guy I worked with at DISH; someone we'll call Kasey.

The text contained an image of Chelsea Clinton's face with the caption that said something along the lines of, "With that face, receiving oral from her would look like anal."

This wasn't the first time Kasey had sent me a rude image. We constantly ribbed each other—at work no less—by exchanging IMs that would probably have gotten us both fired if we'd ever been caught. Kasey would send me animated gifs of jiggling boobs, and I'd return the favor by sending him pictures of hirsute chests, each of us responding, "Ewww! Gross!" We had many lunchtime discussions over cheap Chinese food about philosophy, our place in the universe, our supervisor ("La Chupacabra"), and the untenable positions we found ourselves in at work, forming an unlikely bond that managed to survive even after my departure from Colorado. I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that as a friend I came to love him (Ben called Kasey my work husband), but I hold a definite fondness for the guy and admire and definitely care about him.

Anyhow, I texted back and told him "Not cool, man—especially in light of yesterday."

He responded, "Wow…Mr. Sensitive over politics!" followed by, "I voted Trump. I didn't think he'd win!"

I was gobsmacked. How could this guy—a pot-smoking Colorado native who regaled me with tales of his absolutely wild youth growing up in Littleton, vote for someone who seemed to be the antithesis of who I thought he was?

I was speechless. I didn't even know how to respond. Several hours later I sent him this, which probably summed up the sense of betrayal I was feeling at the moment:

His response? "Bold. But isn't that the same type of ignorant rhetoric—just from the other side? Honestly my political affiliations aren't strong either way. Bad presidents come and go. Life goes on."

I didn't immediately reply. I needed time to gather my thoughts. It was clear to me that Kasey (who has never displayed an ounce of racism, misogyny or homophobia for as long as I've known him) didn't really understand the importance of what had just happened to our country. And being a straight, white, married male in a well-paying job, life for him under a Trump regime probably would go on as it always had. That point couldn't be argued.

While I was mulling my response, I ran across This Is Why We Grieve and realized it summed up exactly what I wanted to say. I emailed it to him, adding, "I'm sending you this because I was truly and deeply saddened when you told me you'd voted for Trump. You are a dear friend and a valued part of my life, and I could never shut you out, but I want you to understand what half the country (at least the half who bothered to vote) is feeling right now and why."

I was hoping this might give him some idea of why this is such a big deal; that it's not just politics, that it's not business as usual, and why quite frankly, I'm feeling more than a little betrayed by someone I considered a friend.

I received his response a few hours later. I read it and immediately deleted it. It stung even worse than his initial texts. I don't remember his exact wording now, but he was justifying his conservatism (where in the fuck did that come from?!) and in essence what I'd sent him was just left-wing garbage.

I guess this answered the question of how this man could vote for the anthesis of who I thought he was. Despite our many deep conversations over the years, I didn't really know him at all.

And that's what hurts the most.