I got up and I didn’t want to talk about this.
When I went to bed last night, I just lay there in the dark. We didn’t wait for it to be called, but we waited long enough to know. I felt sick. I didn’t think this would happen. It did.
I dreamed about it. Or at least, it was in the back of my dream mind. I recall being in a bus, trying to take pictures of the world beyond, and I kept considering what the world would be like when I woke up.
This morning, I kept waking up before it was time to actually get up. It felt like the opposite of Christmas. Like if I just stayed where I was and tried to go back to sleep then maybe this wouldn’t be a reality. Yet here I am.
I didn’t want to talk about this, but I wanted to talk to you. Because I know you’re scared and I know you feel ill and I know it looks very, very hopeless.
You are all worth every ounce of whatever goodness there is in this fucked up world. You are just as beautiful as you were yesterday and you’re still beautiful today. You are still loved. You still deserve decency and safety.
I’m not saying don’t be upset. It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to be hurt and disappointed and angry. I’ve been angry since the beginning.
But don’t give up. I’m begging you. Don’t lose sense of who you are and a vision of what the world could or should be. The only way we’re going to get back to that is if we fight for it now. Do not give in to hopelessness.
Be vigilant. Be aware. Be informed. Research your state’s laws and government processes. Reach out to the people you know who are afraid and let them know that you’re there for them. If you’re afraid, talk to people you love and trust. Be kind to the people around you – that includes you. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. Eat, sleep, create things. Pursue happiness.
And if you are thinking about hurting yourself over this…I beg you. Don’t. You are a crucial part of this world. Please don’t go. We need you. We love you. You are so very, very necessary. Your life is a gift. It is wonderful.
And I’m here if you need to talk.