For the very first time in my life, I am proud to be American. Seriously.
It's a weird feeling. I feel part of something big.
Mostly, though, the wordless weight of millions of disillusioned souls have stopped rubbing, rubbing, rubbing at the national psyche. Now the voices have spoken, millions upon millions of them: the polling places didn't know what to do with the numbers; our system is set up for so much of the country to go unheard. And with this one gigantic moment of speech, of the exercise of choice, we are free. We get to choose who we are.
An exhalation of hope on a national - no, international - scale.
And with that voice, we say we believe in each other. We say we are, indeed, one people.
The sense of space is limitless; the sense of silence, and peace, and relief, immense. Like Maya Angelou said, "Even my hairs are happy."
(And ZeFrank, oh wonderous and silly man, has a great way to celebrate).