After the first hot surge of nausea, the second: bilious tides of recrimination, the hottest of hot takes fill my feeds before the votes are even fully counted, before the evidence can possibly be gathered. Casting for some clear explanation, to set some simple narrative — what happened, what went wrong, what we missed. The inevitable hand-wringing, blame, second/third/fourth guessing.

I do want to understand, but not yet. I’m not ready to pull the body apart, to name the morbid conditions. I want to sit a while longer in my anger, my sadness, my surprise, my humility and confusion. I want to feel all these feelings and I want you to feel your feelings. There will be time to analyze and deconstruct, time to regather, reconnect and rebuild. Today is today. Too soon for postmortem. Too soon to hope to understand.