We can cry together.
I put on my big girl pants and made myself eat a sandwich, because I hadn't eaten all day, but once that goes down, I'm going to pull out a tub of ice cream, eat it straight out of the tub with a spoon, and salt it with my tears.
Then I'm going to watch nothing but something frivolous and easy, like Bake Off, for two days, and sleep as much as I need to, so that I can be back here, 9am sharp, on Monday morning (1am Tuesday, my time). Because there is nothing else I can do.
This is the hard part. It's an illusion that's easy to believe that by following the case and then the trial that we could somehow control it. But this is what it's always been about. Twelve people in a room, finding the truth on behalf of all of us. We are powerless, and that is confronting. All we can do is hope, and trust. And pray, if that's your thing. Only they can do this, and it was always going to be that way.
I wish them all the strength, insight, and determination that they need to reach that verdict.
MOO