I don't really have words to say what I'm feeling. Forty-nine people went out to enjoy an evening. Some were probably with the person they love most in the world. There were probably others who were trying to find that person, and still others who maybe just wanted to dance or drink or find someone to spend time with right now. And they're dead. And I can't stop crying about it.
I can't imagine how I would feel if one of those had been someone I love every day of my life. And there's no way to make this better.
People on Facebook are talking about terrorists and ISIS and Obama and Trump and gun control and semi-automatic weapons. But no one can make this better. Every person who loved one of those 50 (and that includes the family of the shooter) is mourning still today.
People are donating blood and eating Chick-fil-a. There are candlelight vigils and protests and profile pictures with rainbows. That doesn't make this better.
And then there are the people (and I use this term loosely) who applaud the loss of life. They sully the names of the dead simply by uttering them. They call the victims "pedophiles" and "deviants" when they don't even know who the victims are. They buy into some a frightening certainty that the whole attack was engineered by their god. I don't know that god. He's not the one who speaks to me and reminds me how very much he loves every one of his children. Even, or perhaps especially, the gay ones, or the ones who want to kill the gay ones, or the ones who are glad the gay ones are dead. No respecter of persons.
And I am left feeling angry and sad and afraid.
Nothing makes this better.