On the morning of June 12, 2016, I woke up to my phone's alarm. Cranky as always because I am not a morning person, I rolled over to hit snooze for the first of many times when I noticed a news notification. Usually I would've ignored it, hit snooze, and been back off to dreamland in seconds, but the words "shooting" and "Orlando" caught my attention. I sat up quick and read the whole headline. There had been a shooting at an LGBT nightclub in Orlando, Florida. I live in Texas, so what could have startled me like that? The nightclub was called Pulse. I'd heard that name a hundred times before because my best friend had been there. My best friend who lives in Orlando.
My heart raced more quickly than I'd ever felt it race before. I started immediately crying. I couldn't get my hands to settle or my mind to clear. "What if" ran through my mind on a constant loop. I sent a text: "Are you okay?" The fear of picking up the phone and not getting an answer was too present. What I got in response made it clear that my best friend, my soulmate, one of my favorite people was alive, but he was not okay. I am thankful beyond measure that he was not at that club that night, but my heart instantly broke for him because his community was profoundly shaken.
As I talked to him throughout the day, only once through a voice call because speaking out loud had proven to be difficult, I realized the pain, fear, and anxiety I felt could never compare to what he was going through. While I felt helpless being halfway across the country from him, where I couldn't comfort him or hold his hand, he was scared, angry, lost, heartbroken because he felt helpless being in the same area code. The handful of people I knew in Orlando were all safe, but those in that nightclub were his people, and several he knew lost their lives that night.
The LGBT community in Orlando is welcoming and beautiful. It's one of the reasons he never moved back to Texas after an internship he had ended. He felt like he was home. June 12, 2016 was one of the only times that was tested.
Knowing exactly how I felt that day, the panic, the tears, the ache in my chest were all nothing when I listened to his panic, his tears, his ache. I will never forget it. I will always remember every phone call, the texts, the conversations we still have about it three years later. Every year on June 12, I will wake up remembering what happened, send him an early "I love you" text, and maybe post something in remembrance of the 49 lives lost. The truth, however, is that 49 people died that day, but so many more were affected. I see it. I feel it.
An even deadlier shooting has happened since then. The people of Las Vegas were shaken a little over a year later. This last weekend, two more shootings killed dozens of people. El Paso, Texas and Dayton, Ohio experienced the horror within hours of each other. Every time it happens, I remember what I felt like on June 12, 2016. I wasn't even in the city, so I am fully aware that what I experienced was just a tiny blip of those near to it, and I just simply cannot imagine going through it first-hand. I will never think what I felt could even be in the same conversation, but if what I felt was that rough, there's not a strong enough person in the world to heal properly from being there in the moment or losing someone when it happens.
My heart breaks so deeply each time another mass shooting is announced. My heart goes out to the people who have lost people. Nobody should have to die like this, and worst of all, it could've been prevented. Assault weapons are meant for one thing -- death. Why is it so easy for people to get their hands on something which sole purpose is to kill?
How is it so easy for people to prioritize guns over people's lives? How is it so easy to blame this on anything else but guns? How is it so easy for people to vote for leaders who care more about the money in their pockets than actual human lives? Why do we keep ignoring this?
They preach about law-abiding gun owners, and how a good person with a gun could save us, but who saved these people? Both Texas and Ohio are open-carry states. A person can go into a Wal-Mart with a gun in Texas. A person can go into a bar with a gun in Ohio. Where were your good people with guns? Even if your good people showed up, how do we know another gun added would've ended well? What if your good person was shot by the police, or another good person, thinking they were the bad person? What if they missed? Another life taken. How do you not see this is a gun problem?
We are scared in places where we once felt so safe. Schools, places of worship, grocery stores, community centers, concerts. We are scared no matter where we are because this happens way too often. I work in a mall. We have training on what to do during an Active Shooter Emergency. When is it going to happen here?
Some are attacked because they're queer. Some are attacked because they are not white. Some are attacked because a white boy couldn't handle the word "no." All are attacked because of some sort of entitlement this country has bred in our men. All are attacked because these men easily obtained a weapon that easily killed multiple people in seconds.
When is it enough? When does it hurt you enough to see a change has to be made? When does it make your soul ache so badly you finally stop voting for these people who don't care? Will it ever break you up so badly inside that you tell your representatives to stop being cowards? Will it ever make them stress so badly that they realize no amount of money can replace a life that never had to be taken? Will it only hit you when it directly affects you? Will you care when someone you know is at the mall for a shopping day with some friends and doesn't come home? Will you understand when you're face-first staring at a gun? By then it's too late.
It's already too late for too many people.
My heart raced more quickly than I'd ever felt it race before. I started immediately crying. I couldn't get my hands to settle or my mind to clear. "What if" ran through my mind on a constant loop. I sent a text: "Are you okay?" The fear of picking up the phone and not getting an answer was too present. What I got in response made it clear that my best friend, my soulmate, one of my favorite people was alive, but he was not okay. I am thankful beyond measure that he was not at that club that night, but my heart instantly broke for him because his community was profoundly shaken.
As I talked to him throughout the day, only once through a voice call because speaking out loud had proven to be difficult, I realized the pain, fear, and anxiety I felt could never compare to what he was going through. While I felt helpless being halfway across the country from him, where I couldn't comfort him or hold his hand, he was scared, angry, lost, heartbroken because he felt helpless being in the same area code. The handful of people I knew in Orlando were all safe, but those in that nightclub were his people, and several he knew lost their lives that night.
The LGBT community in Orlando is welcoming and beautiful. It's one of the reasons he never moved back to Texas after an internship he had ended. He felt like he was home. June 12, 2016 was one of the only times that was tested.
Knowing exactly how I felt that day, the panic, the tears, the ache in my chest were all nothing when I listened to his panic, his tears, his ache. I will never forget it. I will always remember every phone call, the texts, the conversations we still have about it three years later. Every year on June 12, I will wake up remembering what happened, send him an early "I love you" text, and maybe post something in remembrance of the 49 lives lost. The truth, however, is that 49 people died that day, but so many more were affected. I see it. I feel it.
An even deadlier shooting has happened since then. The people of Las Vegas were shaken a little over a year later. This last weekend, two more shootings killed dozens of people. El Paso, Texas and Dayton, Ohio experienced the horror within hours of each other. Every time it happens, I remember what I felt like on June 12, 2016. I wasn't even in the city, so I am fully aware that what I experienced was just a tiny blip of those near to it, and I just simply cannot imagine going through it first-hand. I will never think what I felt could even be in the same conversation, but if what I felt was that rough, there's not a strong enough person in the world to heal properly from being there in the moment or losing someone when it happens.
My heart breaks so deeply each time another mass shooting is announced. My heart goes out to the people who have lost people. Nobody should have to die like this, and worst of all, it could've been prevented. Assault weapons are meant for one thing -- death. Why is it so easy for people to get their hands on something which sole purpose is to kill?
How is it so easy for people to prioritize guns over people's lives? How is it so easy to blame this on anything else but guns? How is it so easy for people to vote for leaders who care more about the money in their pockets than actual human lives? Why do we keep ignoring this?
They preach about law-abiding gun owners, and how a good person with a gun could save us, but who saved these people? Both Texas and Ohio are open-carry states. A person can go into a Wal-Mart with a gun in Texas. A person can go into a bar with a gun in Ohio. Where were your good people with guns? Even if your good people showed up, how do we know another gun added would've ended well? What if your good person was shot by the police, or another good person, thinking they were the bad person? What if they missed? Another life taken. How do you not see this is a gun problem?
We are scared in places where we once felt so safe. Schools, places of worship, grocery stores, community centers, concerts. We are scared no matter where we are because this happens way too often. I work in a mall. We have training on what to do during an Active Shooter Emergency. When is it going to happen here?
Some are attacked because they're queer. Some are attacked because they are not white. Some are attacked because a white boy couldn't handle the word "no." All are attacked because of some sort of entitlement this country has bred in our men. All are attacked because these men easily obtained a weapon that easily killed multiple people in seconds.
When is it enough? When does it hurt you enough to see a change has to be made? When does it make your soul ache so badly you finally stop voting for these people who don't care? Will it ever break you up so badly inside that you tell your representatives to stop being cowards? Will it ever make them stress so badly that they realize no amount of money can replace a life that never had to be taken? Will it only hit you when it directly affects you? Will you care when someone you know is at the mall for a shopping day with some friends and doesn't come home? Will you understand when you're face-first staring at a gun? By then it's too late.
It's already too late for too many people.
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