When I awoke two Sundays ago to the news of yet another mass shooting at yet another LGBTQ club in yet another American city, the first thing I felt was my heart sink.
I looked at my husband asleep next to me, visualized my brother and his boyfriend, and thought of all the friends I have spent countless nights with in queer bars just like Club Q in Colorado Springs.
The second thing I felt was a familiar rush of adrenaline — the kind that comes whenever I know I'm about to dive, headfirst, into the unstoppable wave of trauma such shootings set into motion.