I'll tell you what, people who plan to vote for Mitt Romney:

I disagree with you, and not just a little. Your support of the Romney/Ryan ticket feels like a kick to the stomach, because as a gay man, this stuff is personal to me.

But you know what? Don't de-friend me.

In his Huffington Post blog post on Oct. 23, the awesome Kergan Edwards-Stout argues that people who plan to vote for Romney should de-friend him on Facebook, because he doesn't want to have friends who believe he deserves anything less than equal treatment under the law.

What can I say? I totally get this. I have felt this way, often. In fact, I felt this way yesterday. As I was driving to meet a friend for lunch, I found myself stewing in my own juices about the mean-spiritedness of the Romney/Ryan campaign as it pertains to LGBT folks. I felt my blood pressure rise, yet again, as it has so many times when I am made to feel inferior. I don't deserve anything less than equal treatment under the law, and it pisses me off when people support a candidate who seems to feel otherwise.

But then I had a slightly different thought:

What if the people who are voting for Romney aren't all focused on me and my issues? I mean, some of them clearly are. It would be hard to argue that the NOM folks aren't focused on me, because their message is virulently anti-gay, and unabashedly so. But what if, in fact, the majority of Romney supporters aren't really thinking about how their vote makes me feel? What if they have different priorities than I have?

I used to teach college composition at Arizona State University. In those courses, we stressed the importance of understanding different perspectives. I came at those lessons as a gay man, and I'm sure some of my students became more able to understand my perspective from those classes.

Did I become more able to understand any of their perspectives?

It's a good question. Because years later, I must admit I still don't understand conservatism. I just don't. I never understood why a person wouldn't feel compelled to fight for justice for the maligned, for change and for progress. That's just how I've always felt. I surely had conservative students. Did I understand where they were coming from, or was I just listening to my own voice, as I am so sure that I am right?

Shouldn't this be a two-way street? I'm not suggesting that we promote ignorance or hatred; I'm suggesting that we all take our blinders off and recognize that there are millions of terrific folks out there who come from a different perspective, who will cast a vote in two weeks for the other guy. To decide these people are all mean-spirited and selfish is no more apt than for them to decide that we are all, as Ann Coulter so lovingly put it, "Retards." Sixty million people can't be "evil." There has to be another answer.

Clearly, some Romney supporters are more focused on their bank accounts and their jobs than the fact that my partner and I have to pay about $5k more a year in taxes because we can't get married. Many of them don't know that, and others probably wouldn't really care. Still more might care, but might care about other things even more.

(Of course, I could make what I would consider a very strong argument as to why those people should not vote for Romney based on his economic policies, but that's an argument for another day.)

What I'm really trying to say is this: Politics is personal. NOT just for me. For everyone. We all have very strong beliefs. Have you ever changed anyone's political views? I haven't, and I've been at this for a while. I know one friend who used to be conservative and now isn't, but despite my arguments with him a decade ago, his politics changed of his own volition.

More and more, I believe that politics and religion are realms where our perceptions are real. And that's true for all of us. They can't be done away with. Each person's perception of the truth is not a layer on top of reality; they are our reality.

Who am I to believe that my strong feelings are more valuable than those of my neighbors? Am I that special? I know very smart people who simply hate Barack Obama. They are convinced he's a terrible president. For them, that must be true. For me, I think Mitt Romney would be an absolute train wreck. For me, that must be true.

I am starting to believe that we live in a world where there are multiple realities. It must be so, because it doesn't make sense that so many surely decent and reasonable people have such different perceptions.

I am not negating my own views. In fact, I embrace them. I will continue to tell those who will listen that Romney's support of DOMA, for instance, feels mean-spirited and downright dangerous to me. But that was also the case under George W. Bush, and I survived that. If Romney becomes president, I will survive that, too. God willing.

Just like an amazing German teenager did 70 years ago under incomparable circumstances, I have to hold on to the belief that people are good at heart. Is there evil in the world? Surely there is. But we need to be careful of how we define "evil." Those who harm innocent people out of malice are evil. Hitler was evil. Is Romney evil? I know that I have claimed in the past few months that he is. But truly I have to believe he is not. Deeply disappointing in his views on LGBT issues? Absolutely. But he is no more evil than Obama, who is deeply disappointing to other people who have different perspectives than mine. If Romney is evil, then 60 million Americans will be voting for an evil person in two weeks. I refuse to believe that, because then most people aren't good at heart. And that's unacceptable to me. I cannot discount the realities of these people, simply because they don't match my own reality. I can share my reality with them, but then again, they can share their reality with me, too. They are about as likely to change my mind as I am to change theirs.

So don't de-friend me, Romney supporters. I may bristle at your support for Mitt, just as you may bristle at my support for Barack. Let's figure out how to move forward in a world with multiple realities where we can all co-exist, where we may row our boats merrily down the stream without bumping into each other too hard. Maybe sometime if we find a way to change the polemical aspect of our 24-hour cable news society, we'll find that our boats can merge, and we will figure out that despite our differences, we are all one.

I have to hope so, anyway.