I’m obsessed with you. I can’t stop thinking about you. You are as much a part of my being as anyone right now. I rarely have a conversation without talking about you. Congratulations for the space you occupy.
You’ve accomplished so much as president. All of it through leading by example or mere proclamation.
Personified how our economy and tax system only work for the extremely wealthy, while the rest of us are their subjects.
Demonstrated how our for-profit health care system is ill-prepared and equipped for crisis while also failing to serve many in even the best of times.
Shown how the foundation of our democratic republic, election, is easily manipulated by those in power and foreign interests.
Forced the realization, by your election and impeachment alone, that the constitution, our representative government, and the system checks and balances, are broken and in need of change.
Successfully sent us all to our corners with hatred and fear, even as you summoned the priests in our founding religion of white superiority to continue sacrificing lives of color to our primordial gods.
You are the American Story. Compromising in Philadelphia at the constitutional convention. Joining authority at the Trail of Tears while fighting it at Fort Sumter and Ford’s Theater. Ensuring a hasty reconstruction. Separating the classes in the Gilded Age. Befriending Jim Crow and state’s rights. Questioning the U.S. involvement in the great world wars and insisting the bomb not be dropped on Germany. Making a pact with Stalin at Yalta. Serving in the jury at Money, Mississippi. Wearing a badge in Selma, Alabama. Shouting, “The president has been shot!” in Dallas. Memphis, Chicago, Wounded Knee and most recently Charlottesville, Louisville, Minneapolis, and Kenosha, all called your name.
Despite everything, I fear to admit, I’m jealous. I know you’re pleased. I wish I had access to all the money you do. Your singularity of purpose is extraordinary. Capturing the attention and the imagination of the entire country. A television station praising and advancing my agenda. Eating whatever I want and grabbing with my own hands every desire. Teams to do my bidding and clean up my messes. Followers to act on my every whim. Creating my own facts and even realities! Children who see no faults. Immune from the suffering and death of others. No oversight and accountability. Caught in misdeeds without consequences. My own cult of True Believers. Most of all, you have something within you that allows you to be cruel while simultaneously demanding love. Sui generis!
Shhhh. I must whisper a secret. I want to destroy you. I fantasize about having superpowers. Zooming about the country, I capture you, your family, and government leaders and secret you off to a deserted island. Night after night there are more, your partners from around the world, too. I need a bigger Island. Confused by the disappearances, your supporters are convinced they’ve been left behind in the Rapture. I chuckle and fall asleep contemplating the means of your destruction.
I sleep only to have you appear in my dreams. You’re in your navy suit, white shirt and red tie. We’re in a locker room, just the two of us. You’re different though. Can I say completely normal? Maybe just a bit embarrassed. Is that possible?
Looking down you say, “Can you tie my shoe? I never learned.”
“No. But I’ll teach you. It’s simple!”
Grasping your laces, I show you how. “See you make one bunny ear. Then you take the other string wrap it around the bunny ear and pull it through the bunny hole. Finally, grab the two ears, one with each hand and pull them tight. You try it!”
You look at me with astonishment, like I’d just given you the keys to the kingdom.
Awakened, I realize we are in each other. I am your shadow and you are mine. You wish to be admired for the virtue of law and order while also crushing your enemies, while I strive with righteous indignation, convinced of my pure motives, to better lives and the world by destroying you. Denying that half of myself, I make you greater every time I think about you, talk about you, and wish to end you. Millions may be doing the same thing, but yes, I’m projecting again. Ever since you looked at me in my dream, however, I know that I own you. We are one of the same. The Destroyer in you is the Destroyer in me.
Alas, my shadow is far greater than you. Yet, all that I hate about myself, everything I would disown, all my fears and dark emotions are active in you.
Hush, another confession. It is humbling yet frightening to own these powers. It was much easier when I thought they were out there, even far away, or buried deep inside.
I try to play with you, but you have no humor. I avoid feeding you, but you demand to be fed. Whenever I’m with you, I feel it. I must own your unhappiness, too. All the anger and agitation gives me anxiety. I fear depression as darkness surrounds. To simply project my hate again!
One more truth about me. Quiet, this makes my voice tremble. I’ve been to the place where there are no shadows, darkness alone. Yours was the only voice I heard. Then she arrived in love, no panic at all. Awakened, light appeared, and you returned to the dark side of my soul.
Tennessee Williams was right. “I’m afraid if I lost my demons, I’d lose my angels, too.” You shall destroy yourself in this world, but you shall remain in me. I am whole and grateful for your gifts, resilience and strength among them.
You’ve done enough. Thank you. I voted for Joe and Kamala. Half of me wishes I were as envious of them as I am of you. You know. Yes, you know what I mean.
I know your place and purpose in the order of the universe. I know your name. You are and shall always be President Perses.
With all due respect,