I’m afraid to vote.

I’m afraid to vote.

I’m afraid to tell people whether or not I’ll vote.

I’m afraid to tell people how I’ll vote. I’m afraid to tell people who I’ll vote for. I’m afraid to vote.

I’m afraid to vote for Biden because I’m scared for the future of our economy.

I’m afraid to vote for Trump because I’m scared for the future of our economy.

I’m afraid to pick wrong.

I’m afraid to vote for a man with a history of sexist comments – yet I’m afraid to give those any weight as I’m afraid we’re way beyond the worry of grabbing anyone’s pu**y.

I’m afraid to vote for a man with a history of not rushing to get involved while I’m afraid his involvement might swing the pendulum too far in the other direction, causing us as a country, to once again, miss our target.

I’m afraid I don’t know anymore – what is our target?

I’m afraid of voting for a man who claims super powers against a raging virus, stirring up his followers to a state of indifference in protecting others in a country where ‘others’ are dying at an alarming rate.

I’m afraid of voting for a man who many claim won’t live through the four years of the presidency – I’m afraid to tell anyone that I know people who’ve thrived to and beyond the age of 81 and I’m afraid to voice my confusion as to why 77 is the new dead.

I’m afraid if Trump wins, Richmond will blow up – heeding the call spray-painted on the now empty monument bases to ‘become ungovernable.’

I’m afraid if Biden wins, Richmond will blow up – heeding the call-spray painted on the now empty monument bases to ‘become ungovernable.’

I’m afraid to leave my child in the center of it – in her apartment smack dab in the middle of a history that now terrifies me.

I’m afraid I’m not qualified to make this decision.

I’m afraid to read anything to help figure out what side I’m on – knowing that it could be accurate, or not, or what?

I’m afraid if Trump wins, there will be riots and protests and civil unrest.

I’m afraid if Biden wins, there will be riots and protests and civil unrest.

I’m afraid to vote.

I’m afraid that voting for Biden will be a crushing blow to the second amendment.

I’m afraid that voting for Trump will imply a belief that gun owners should run a-mock.

I’m afraid that a vote for Biden, and therefore for Harris, will out my belief that, no, women shouldn’t sell their bodies for advancement but that sometimes it’s not what it seems.

I’m afraid that a vote for Trump, and therefore Pence, will out my belief that, no, not everyone should be able to walk into Planned Parenthood and make life altering decisions after thirty minutes of ‘counseling.’

I’m afraid if I vote for Biden, people will think ‘she only did it because the VP candidate ticks off two minority boxes.’

I’m afraid if I vote for Trump, people will think I’m not paying attention to his angry tweets and bullying statements and support of others doing the same.

I’m afraid if I vote for Biden, people will think I’m unsupportive if the oil industry.

I’m afraid if I vote for Trump, people will think I’m unsupportive of the environment.

I’m afraid if I vote for Biden, people will think I’m not for a jobs increase and pulling people out of the pandemic economic slump.

I’m afraid if I vote for Trump, people will think I’m not for higher taxes nor the understanding that taxes equal healthcare or education.

I’m afraid if I vote for Biden, people will think I don’t support affordable healthcare but I’m afraid if I vote for Trump, people will think I don’t support Medicate.

I’m afraid if I vote either way, people will think I don’t support the military, first responders, minorities, our Supreme Court, or foreign policies.

I’m afraid there’s no way to get it right.

I’m afraid no matter who I pick, I won’t be proud to say ‘I voted,’ or get that rush of living in a country built on votes.

I’m afraid I’ll mumble my answer when asked or feel a need to justify or defend myself because I just know someone isn’t going to agree with me.

I’m afraid of my own friends and family and how this vote could change our relationships because I’m afraid we really, as a nation, just can’t get along anymore.

I’m afraid to keep waking up with a pit in my stomach, wondering what’s next and when will it be over and can we got back to being normal.

I’m afraid I don’t know what normal is anymore.

I’m afraid to vote.