Super Tuesday

I fell in love once. He had it all. Smart, charismatic, good looking, idealistic, a do-er. When he talked about the future, I believed every word he said. Anything was possible. I would have followed him to the ends of the earth. In fact, I did go to Iowa for him--in February. I was so moved by his vision, that I was willing to evangelise on his behalf--in double-digit sub-zero temperatures.

Of course, no one can live up to the expectations I had and the whole thing came apart. My disappointment and heartache were severe. It took years to get over him but, 12 years later, I still wear his t-shirt.

And the goofy hat he gave me.

Another candidate for my affection has appeared on the scene--not as good looking, not as charismatic, however he still says things that make me misty eyed, that get my heart hankering for a better tomorrow. But once bitten, you know? I want to believe, I want to feel that burning passion (see what I did there?)--but I don’t know if I can face the disappointment again of hopes dashed, dreams extinguished.

As a former Pennsylvania resident, I have until April 26 to decide whether I will feel the Bern or go with the conventional convention choice.

Note: My first ever selfie, one with phone, one with camera. Hopefully my last...
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