Six hours ago, Hillary Clinton was on the verge of becoming America’s first female president, offering respite to all those people that her opponent had mocked, maligned, and threatened, and inspiration to a world’s worth of women. What did you feel then? A kind of gentle, nervous elation, a slight rise in the shoulders? Was there a feeling for a thousand “I voted” stickers on the grave of Susan B. Anthony?
You know how it feels now. The way your chest tightened when Broward County’s late votes failed to dent Trump’s lead in Florida, the way your face sank into your hands when Virginia came in so slow and Pennsylvania just didn’t come. You texted your parents, your ex. You denied the polls and probabilities, started to look awfully closely at certain Michigan counties.
You believed, to the core, that this would be a cakewalk for Hillary Clinton. Did anyone ever fall so far so fast?