I can’t forget 2016, when a friend and I selected a campus bar in Detroit we knew would be filled with liberal people. We wanted to spend the evening there and celebrate together when Clinton won.

We had paid close attention to the polls and knew that victory was not a sure thing, but we knew it was almost a sure thing. I’ll never forgot the darkness that descended on both of us as the evening unfolded.

He’s a Lebanese immigrant who was raised in Saudi Arabia, and he started getting WhatsApp messages from friends and family panicking about what a Trump presidency would mean.

As a gay man, I felt punched in the gut. I was scared.

What made it so much worse is that neither of us really believed Trump could win. We’re not doing that again this year. He’s in Boston and I’m in Michigan, so we won’t be together. But we will be in touch. As I will be with friends all over the world.

We’re ready this time. We know we could lose, and we’re steeled. I won’t be out ready to celebrate with people — not just because of covid-19 but because I’ve internalized deeply just how much this is not a sport.

Winning and losing is not a game. I believe I’m emotionally prepared for whatever happens.