It’s hard to put my feelings into words. It’s one of those exceedingly rare moments in a person’s life when you’re actually given ample notice to reflect in advance: "This is a historic moment. This is a moment that in some shape I will remember the rest of my life." 

Almost always, those kinds of moments are the bad ones. Working at Intelligentsia behind the counter the morning of 9/11; the moment Zach walked through the door of my apartment after getting back into town and me breaking up with him; the moment Mom confronted me with reading my diary which I had left out on the kitchen counter and me lying about not being gay. Much rarer are the moments like that the positive ones. The Laurie Anderson concert the evening of 9/11; the first time I kissed Andy, lying next to each other on my futon; standing behind my fourth grade class as they watched a video I had just finished making.

Last night’s speech was one of those positive moments.

And it feels like when it comes to Obama there will be many such moments for me. He articulates complicated feelings that I never knew were inside me, feelings about what it means to be a human being and an American at this weird time in history. All the contradiction and paradox. Andrew Sullivan nails it when he says, "This is a remarkable man at a vital moment. America would be crazy to throw this opportunity away. America must not throw this opportunity away."