How do you mend a broken heart? Part II

I have continued reading the letters and journal entries I wrote while off in tolerant Ohio and found a bit of foreshadowing in the first letter I posted.
It wasn't something I realized until reading the letter I had sent that a mere week later, I would actually have an altercation regarding my Kerry/Edwards button.
Believe it or not, wearing a tiny little campaign button was a bit nerve-wracking during my time in Ohio. I never wore a shirt or anything obtrusive professing my ideals; I simply attached a small Kerry/Edwards button to my shoulder bag. It was the most I was comfortable with considering the vandalism going on in the typically uneventful town. People would periodically stroll into our makeshift downtown office, red-in-the-face, to let us know how very wrong we were.

In the letter dated October 14th, I wrote:
Sometimes people are so hostile I'm almost afraid to wear my Kerry/Edwards button out in town. But I tell myself, "Those meanies are all talk and nobody would ever do anything to my face."

It struck a memory chord while I was typing, but I'd forgotten (probably on purpose) the incident that occurred a week later. That is, forgotten until I read my journal entry... This wasn't something I openly shared with The Mister because I didn't want him to worry. I was having dinner with Capitall when out of the blue... A very nasty man began having an argument, for the most part, with himself (it should be noted, neither Capitall or I wanted any part of this man's aggression).
It made my heart pound with fear, anger and confusion. By the time he left, I was shaking and yes, even a few tears may have slipped through the cracks.
Since the incident, I have forgiven the offender and the town, but, as you will read, I was VERY angry and hurt by the events that conspired.
Here is my immediate reaction upon leaving the restaurant:

10.21.2004
And so it seems that we are not out of the woods. Perhaps the forest is even more dense than I thought. Surely, but naively, I believed I was immune to prejudice. Surely, but naively, I was wrong.
It isn't clear to me how wearing a button would invite hostility, but I apparently don't think these things through when I get dressed in the morning. Jeans, t-shirt, warm sweater and a small button to support my presidential candidate. After all, the reason I'm in Ohio in the first place is because I want to support the campaign. I just never expected such a nice, sweet, charming town to be so cruel.
My opinion of Marietta, Ohio has always been good - wonderful, even. My husband and I even came back here to get married. He'd only visited twice, but he too was charmed by its beauty and people. I never expected a button to bring out the worst in people.
The "Kerry/Edwards" button has brought me more than just dirty looks. I've now actually had people approach me to challenge me for daring to wear such a statement.
Tonight the worst came when, while dining in a restaurant with [Capitall], a man invited himself to our dinner table to ask me "a few friendly questions."
I tried to politely decline, as did [Capitall]. Buying us a round of drinks does not make you an ally, nor does it give you leeway to badger somebody about their beliefs. My wearing a button did NOT give this person any right to challenge me or yell at me while trying to have dinner.
Thankfully, the manager (a friend, no doubt), came to run interference which settled the offender a bit. However, it was not until [Capitall's] husband, [Wino], and his imposing voice and form arrived the man would leave us alone.
Discrimination comes in all forms. I am ashamed to have been born in Marietta. Never did I expect to be treated so poorly or cruelly based on my beliefs. This town has made me understand 'politics' and 'discrimination' more than I ever expected. I've always loved Marietta; that is why I came back. Now I realize we all make mistakes and mine was coming here.
--end of entry--

It is almost embarrassing that I wrote that about a place I -obviously, from other posts- love so dearly. Hell, The Mister and I would love to live there. At the time of that journal entry, I was so mad my handwriting was a bit hard to decipher.
And honestly...? Honestly, I've never really said or written this, somewhere in my heart -call it woman's intuition, if you must- I knew we wouldn't win.
It did not change how hard I worked or the hope and desperation I had to make a difference in my country.
In reality, it feels like the break-up of a relationship you tried everything to save, but in the end, it was the end.