On days like today, I do not care about your ideology. I do not care about mine. I care about my life. I care about their lives. I don't want my stomach in knots every time my fiancé takes the subway to work. I don't want people I love to die. I don't want you to lose the people you love. I don't want to watch any more live reporting from overhead helicopters on CNN, as they scour the perimeter for signs of life.
We can argue the philosophical merits of gun regulation, we can expand or shrink the sociopolitical, and yet we will end up exactly where we are. It is sadly too late for all that. Ideology gets us nowhere. We will meet here again, probably tomorrow. We will keep meeting—same time, same place.
I'm watching a livestream of the local news, where a bewildered reporter tries to swallow his tears. It's raining outside, and clear across the country in California there are a dozen dead bodies, each end brought by bullets. Parents are calling frantic, hoping that their child is alive. At this moment right now, survivors are just embarking on a long journey of pain, guilt, trauma, regret, flashbacks. The loss is tangible. The pain is forever.
But you still have your guns! So It's all worth it to you. You have to remind yourself. Go ahead, say it out loud—"Those deaths are worth it to me." Days like today, you have to remind yourself that this is the cause you are (literally, chances are) willing to die for. Is it worth it?
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