Uvalde

I’m having a hard time this morning, mainly because I’m not having a hard time at all.   

I’m not having a hard time believing that 19 children were murdered in their classroom, that our simplest sanctuaries are, in fact, war zones. 

I’m not having a hard time believing that two teachers sacrificed their lives to protect their students, that the noble stewards of our youth are continually placed between the barrel of a gun and the life of a child.

I’m not having a hard time believing that an 18 year man growing up in this country could be so sick and full of malice that he decided to do this, that an act so depraved could be deified by such darkness.

I’m not having a hard time believing that someone capable of such an atrocity had more access to firearms than he did to alcohol, that his access to tools of chaos is codified by the moral infrastructure of our supposedly great nation.

I’m not having a hard time believing that this is just another statistic, that this is just one more notch on Uncle Sam’s belt.

I’m not having a hard time believing that, in several days time, the names of the victims will fall in line behind that of the gunman as they all collectively fade into the news cycle.

I’m not having a hard time believing that, that despite being entirely preventable, this will happen again, that literally nothing will change.

Out here on the edge of being human, I just want to have a hard time believing the unbelievable.