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I feel like waking up from a bad dream only to realize the dream is reality. It’s true, I will not be the Democratic Nominee for the Presidential Election 2008. There, I said it. All those scavengers in the media would love to have that quote. There is more meat sticking to it than there’s pork in Washington. And here I am, telling you, but not telling them.

You know, I always said to Bill “We can not and will not be defeated!” For christsakes, he got into the White House, and he knows probably half as much about health care, trade negotiations and the Iraq War as I do. Who could – no, better – who dared to stop me? I had the pundits, I had the funding, I had the media. I was a historical inevitability.

And then you came in – tall, handsome, big smile, “an agent of change.” I have to admit, I did not take you serious. Heck, I even considered you my running mate for a brief period. And then all these college kids added you as a friend on facebook.

And with that, I lost the media. They loved you. They saw this black JFK, who voted against the Iraq War early. Not that it mattered, we still went to war, but you did! To them, you could right all wrongs. Oh, looky here, Obama plays Basketball, and looky there, his wife is a brilliant speaker and has a mind on her own. Cute kids, by the way. And boy, what a mother Obama has, can you believe that? Hello, I am married to a former President! But it didn’t matter at that point

It did matter a couple of weeks later. Suddenly, Bill wasn’t an asset anymore, he turned into a liability. I tell you what: He has never been an advantage for me in my political career. It was just that all these campaign strategists and public opinion experts thought he could win back some of the votes you claimed. So he got back on stage, white-haired and red-faced, kicking the living shit out of you. A perfect example of the old-style politics you want to overcome. Great. That really helped me, thanks a lot. And with that, I lost the pundits.

Also gone by this moment: my funding. I had to dip into my own pocket to keep it going, you know?

Ah Barack, it could have just been us three: you, me, and the American people. Fair game. But somehow, somewhere things got out of hand. Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t had planned anything for the primaries. I thought of them as a nice ride to the real deal later this year. Maybe I misread the general feeling, and people really crave inspiration more than CEO talk about how to run the country and clean up the mess in Iraq. Maybe race is less of a divider than gender. Point is: I don’t know.

Anyhow, I made sure you had to bite the bullet and focus on the primaries because I stayed in and in and in – in fact, I’m still running. Because you owe me, Barack. You took it all. I had the media, the pundits, the funding, I even did alright in the polls. Now my campaign’s broke, I have no game and no promising options left. Vice-Presidency? I don’t know. Oh, you owe me.

Why am I writing this letter then?

Since you are almost President now (not like McCain can beat you, you beat me and that’s almost impossible to pull off), could you maybe throw this Vanity Fair writer out of the country? You just don’t do this to people. That would be awesome, thanks!

One last thing, don’t tell Bill about this letter. Good luck for November!

Best,

Hillary

By Kolja Langnese