I stayed away from dKos last night, wanting instead to just quietly eat pizza and watch the results roll in. I know everyone was working very hard live-blogging all the results. I just wanted, had it turned out badly, to be miserable alone.
Then we got Pennsylvania.
I'm sure there are tons of diaries about how relieved people are, how happy we are.
My story of last night is a simple one, and surely one that is similar to yours. I got up. I voted. Then I went home to wait.
As the day dragged on, the pressure was unreal. I was feeling at once confident and scared. Reports of voting issues in Florida. Long lines. Would everyone get their voices heard? Would the last minute Rev. Wright 527 ads make a difference? Would people fall back into old racist feelings and not vote for their best interests? I convinced myself that enough people in the country felt the same way I did - that for eight years, I felt like I hadn't been able to breathe fully. That they, too, were tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The minutes dragged. That feeling of pressure came back, to the point where I really needed something to calm down. The only thing in the house is Vicodin (not a good choice) and a year-old bottle of Kahlua. I grabbed a coffee mug, the bottle, and some ice, poured a stiff shot, and sipped it while watching the results.
Until they called Pennsylvania. Then I knew it was over. So I chugged it.
My mother, who had been a staunch Hillary supporter, kept calling me every time we got another state. We laughed and cried and laughed some more. She got on me for the drink, as I came very close several years ago to alcoholism, but only got on me a little. She understood why I had needed it. She knew how invested I was in this race. She's a lifelong Democrat herself.
The rest of the night was cake, really. When they called it for Obama, when Keith Olbermann made the announcement at 11 p.m., I didn't cry. I was so proud of this country, I couldn't cry, I couldn't even speak. All I could do was smile and tremble with excitement. I literally shook with happiness.
When Obama gave his speech, I didn't cry. I felt more proud. I smiled harder.
What did make me cry were two things. Eugene Robinson, talking just prior to Obama's speech about how much he wished his parents could have seen this. About how much he wished that many lost friends could have seen it.
The other thing was something other people may not have even paid attention to. When the President-Elect finished his speech, and everyone left him alone on the stage for the final wave and applause, Michelle hung back, waiting for him, her hands clasped against her chest, a huge smile of pride on her face. She stood and watched her husband, waiting to leave the stage with his hand in hers. As they left the stage, hand in hand, I cried like a baby.
Like all of you, I'm pleased and proud today. Finally, after eight long years, I feel like I can breathe. Like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest that I didn't even realize was there. This is not just an analogy - for the last few weeks, I have been on edge, like we all have. When we finally won, I took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly, and smiled. I can breathe freely again.
How about you?