Pete rally signs on Katelyn’s kitchen table at volunteer orientation.

“I know that as this campaign ends, there comes disappointment that we won’t continue, but I hope that everyone who has been part of this in any way knows that the campaign that you have built and the community that you have created is only the beginning of the change that we are going to make together.” — Pete Buttigieg, March 1, 2020

My husband and I had just finished canvassing when we heard that Pete had dropped out. The news hurt more than I expected. As soon as we found out, we drove to Katelyn’s house (she’s the leader of our local volunteer group).

Katelyn is amazing. She is generous, kind, and incredibly determined. It’s impossible to be around her without catching some of her energy and enthusiasm.

Some other volunteers were also at Katelyn’s house. We watched Pete’s concession speech, sitting at the same kitchen table we sat at for weekly volunteer meetings. I cried when Chasten started talking and didn’t stop until Pete finished. I was sad, but I felt like I was in the right place with the right people.

We hadn’t intended to stay all day, but I kept putting off leaving. I wanted to hold on to this moment, the comfort of Katelyn’s home, and the company of people I love. I was afraid to leave.

I couldn’t get the idea out of my head that Pete dropping out might also mean I was about to lose my friends.

I don’t want to be alone again.

I am a technical writer. I work from home, which means I spend most of my time alone. I don’t want to complain, because I know I am lucky to have the benefits that come with a remote job. But when I accepted this job, I didn’t expected the hardest part would be loneliness.

I used to go to counseling, but I’ve only gone once since moving to Sacramento three years ago. Last time I went, the doctor asked me why I think I am depressed. For me, talking about depression with doctors is awkward. It feels like I’m spilling my guts to someone, and then they’re trying to put me back together like I’m a puzzle. But guts aren’t puzzle pieces. They’re squishy and gross and maybe I want to just sit alone in my mess for a while.

I told the doctor something about being lonely and having social anxiety, which makes it hard to make friends. He then explained friend-making strategies, as if I didn’t understand how to connect to other humans. I probably needed to clarify my feelings to him, but now I felt stupid, so I just focused on answering questions in a way that would get me out of there fast.

The doctor signed me up for classes on social anxiety. On the first day of class, I arrived a few minutes late. I approached the classroom door, paused for a moment, then turned around and went back home.

I don’t want to be alone again.

The day after Pete dropped out, I made a lasagna and invited myself over to Katelyn’s house. I was still afraid.

As soon as I got there, Katelyn showed me the video of Pete endorsing Joe Biden. It made me feel better, like maybe a vote for Biden is sort of a vote for Pete.

I am thankful for Katelyn and her family, thankful that week after week they generously invited people into their home and created a space for our community to thrive. I am thankful for the calm I felt in getting to spend another evening in her home, after an emotionally exhausting day. And I was thankful for her children, who are skilled at brightening a dark mood with their curiosity, friendliness, and energy.

Maybe I don’t need to worry so much about being alone.

I really did feel better after the endorsement. Our volunteer team had a party on Super Tuesday. Most of us were rooting for Joe now. It felt good to be on the same team, and it didn’t hurt that it was a winning team.

Every Thursday, we’ve been meeting for pizza and text banking. This past Thursday, we still met, but this time for Joe instead of Pete. It felt good to be together, to be friends, and to be teammates.

Maybe I’m not as alone as I thought.

I’m sad about Pete, but grateful for how welcoming the Biden campaign has been toward Pete supporters.

This week, I also learned that maybe my Pete friends aren’t just Pete friends, but regular friends. Maybe that sounds silly, but I’ve never been so thankful to have friends.

I am also thankful to Pete for bringing us together.

I am thankful to Joe for being a person with integrity who I can feel good about supporting

And I am thankful for Joe’s team of supporters for their friendliness, empathy, and optimism.

Watching Pete’s concession speech was emotionally draining, and I wasn’t ready to absorb what he said. But reading the transcript several days later, I could see his message with clearer eyes. Instead of fear and despair, Pete’s words encourage us to move forward “with hope in our hearts and fire in our bellies.”