A Partisan Love Story

She was perfect. Everything about her. She was smart. Funny. Beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous beautiful.

Our eyes met that first time and we both knew we were meant for each other. The conversation flowed freely. The electricity between us was palpable.

And then, she told me who she was voting for.

Shit.

She was no longer perfect. No longer smart. No longer funny. I started to notice physical imperfections on her face that detracted from her beauty.

Our gaze broke. Our illusion shattered.

And we walked away from each other never to speak again — two soulmates refusing to see the connection because we were on different teams.