Girl, let me just say something real quick.
I swear, when you began to cry while reading that Vox article about the DNC trying to take Bernie down, you took my breath away. I thought to myself, “Damn, she’s just so fine, I gotta meet her.”
The other day, I saw you out at a coffee shop, having a panic attack at the thought of another moderate Democrat losing the election to Trump, and I ain’t lying when I say you looked like the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
That’s just how I feel.
Why don’t you come back to my place, baby? We can stay up all night, hopelessly scrolling through Twitter for any inkling of reassurance or validation, no matter how fleeting it may be. And in the morning, I’ll make us some coffee and eggs.
Just remember baby, it’s not me, it’s us.