it won’t be one more night

Tomorrow is Election Day 2020 in the States. I feel strange being so antsy and on edge about awaiting a call on news that won’t happen, an answer to a federal election that will require an uncountable number of ballots to be counted. I’ve been priming myself for this, for the fallacy that the day will come with some kind of answer, but it’s felt false. I’m aware that I’m circumventing my usual thoughts with this trick, but it comes with an earnest focus.

The country will still be voting in droves, we will all feel an even higher buzz of tension and anticipation. Some calls will come, plenty of informed (and uninformed) news will be flying. I feel the nerves pulling the muscles in my back apart into twists. If it will ease your nerves, I created sendincaseofelection.email with my spouse to try and press all my worries and my actions down into computer keys for a bad outcome should I need it.

But I’m willing to admit the tentative, secret part inside of me that feels hopeful. The fact that tomorrow is not conclusive is a good thing. This is an election where we should take our time and get it right. I’ve been a person absent of hope more times than I like to recognize. I suppose the lack of admission on both ends means I often sit in ambiguity. But now is a time to cherish the hope I have, before whichever fights come next.

It won’t be one more night. We have many more to come. We have many fights to come. I am ready.