I don’t know what words to use. I’m embarrassed. I’m scared. I’m sad, and I feel like the truth is being suffocated across the country. I have that disgusting feeling in the pit of my stomach that usually means guilt or ultimate dread. I could probably puke right now, and could cry on a dime. I can picture our country in another civil war, and our lgbt community running and hiding for their lives. I can perfectly imagine a modern underground railroad where I am embarrassed to be white in a country that shuns anyone who isn’t. I don’t want to be here for that, and I don’t want to be his prized citizen in the eyes of the world. I don’t want to be associated with a country that runs on hate.

I don’t know where to go from here. Do we run? Do we prepare to fight? Do we hide? I can only hope that the rest of the world looks at an election map before they start bombing us, and avoids the west coast and Illinois. At the risk of sounding trivial, this feels like the last Harry Potter when good is very obviously fighting evil, and love is fighting hatred. I believe that love will always win, and take comfort knowing that no matter the election results, the majority vote is love. We will come together and stand up to the evil that has spread across our country.

Where are these people who voted for him? Do so many hateful people actually walk this earth? Is this real? Is it possible that the election results were hacked?

“This. Is. The Worst. Day. Of. My. Life,” she delcared.

“Well, I hope this is the worst day of your life,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because we’re healthy-and we’re all together. Think about how much worse it would be if someone you knew and loved died. So I hope this is the worst day of your life.”

I will absolutely show Jayden the incredibly powerful speech that Hilary Clinton gave this morning, because she had a special message for young people, just like him. I want him to know that he is SO important today and everyday from now on. He is our future and it is important that he feels like he has a say in it.

If I can manage to hold it together during all of this, that will be a miracle. I’m picturing the three of us sitting in the kitchen crying, and it’s not pretty.