Orlando Shooting

It's been more than 24 hours, and for the first number of hours, I stayed away, not wanting to fall into the reality of hate, not wanting to dig below my tears. But then, I had to dive in, to listen to others first, find my words in their words, because again, I found myself mute, unable to find words for another lost count of death at the hands of guns, our weapons of mass destruction. I can no longer name all the mass shootings, because their names pile on top of each other, and when I can remember some of the names, I cannot always remember the details, because there have been too many. One is too many.

Today, I listened to the names of the dead, a paced reading,  photos to give face to the words, to the names. I read bios of some of the dead, tearing up at unfinished promises stolen by one man, hate, hate.

Gay bars are refuges, places we go when we want safety, want a dark corner to kiss, to hold hands, to lean in tight like lovers, without fear. Nan and I seek out gay bars when we travel. It's somewhere we know we can sit for a bit, hold hands, feel a bit of normal far from home.

Today, I need my own words to make this loss palpable. There is no sense to be found. No solace. Just a reminder of the ugliness one person can create. I am not hopeless. I am angry, heart heavy, mourning.


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