My dearest, sweetest Sarah,
As I write this, you're wandering around the apartment in a half-awake stupor, sipping your green tea, watching the Graham Norton show, or whatever DIY YouTube channel has struck your fancy this morning. We're doing good - more importantly, you're doing good. These first three months of marriage have been, in a word, real. I love you more than ever. And it's so good to see you up and about and smiling.
Two months ago, you weren't smiling. Two months ago, you were chain smoking and swigging beers in a dark bar in Brooklyn, eyes glued to the television. I remember, I'd been planning on grabbing a quick pre-coverage drink with a cast mate of mine, but the sound of your voice on the phone...I rushed right over. And afterwards, we shared that excruciatingly silent cab ride home.
Watching you find your footing in the days after was nothing short of inspiring. Not at first, at first you were an absolute wreck. We all were. You barely left the house. Tears most every day. More of that silence. No words; what words are there when everything you believe in gets trampled and burned by a group of people who seem to hate you for your color, gender and creed?
But then, by the close of that week...you got up. You got to work. You researched. You started calling electors. Reading the news. Posting on social media ways to get involved, and keep upthe fight. You didn't just march, you pushed; you're still pushing. From the comfort of our dining room table, you claimed the national conversation as your own, and I was – am - so floored by your audacity and strength.
You are a shining example of how to move forward in these next four years; hyper-vigilance,persistence, and, most importantly, joy. The joy you find in your favorite YouTube show, in date night, in seeing a good play or reading a great novel. Two months ago, we were reminded that the fight will always be there, and so we fight, but not without happiness in our hearts. We can never let that leave us - you've shown me that. And as long as you're breathing, there's a hope to be found, and something to be done.
I'm proud of you. And privileged to be your husband.
Let's get back to work.