the day after
I'm ... not especially well. I am better than I was this morning, when I woke up from a nightmare sometime before 4am and realized that, no, no, it could actually happen now.
I cried over breakfast, and I cried at work (before and after a very kind co-worker gave me a very gentle hug), and I cried after work. I may be done crying, now.
But it's late, again, and I'm exhausted, and I keep thinking of how many women I saw yesterday, women wearing "I voted" stickers and smiling, and I keep thinking about how, instead, my country has elected a narcissistic misogynistic racist rapist. And then I kind of want to cry again. Or break something.
Instead, I will go to bed, and I will try to sleep.
It's a long, terrible season we've entered now.
I cried over breakfast, and I cried at work (before and after a very kind co-worker gave me a very gentle hug), and I cried after work. I may be done crying, now.
But it's late, again, and I'm exhausted, and I keep thinking of how many women I saw yesterday, women wearing "I voted" stickers and smiling, and I keep thinking about how, instead, my country has elected a narcissistic misogynistic racist rapist. And then I kind of want to cry again. Or break something.
Instead, I will go to bed, and I will try to sleep.
It's a long, terrible season we've entered now.