When it happened, he felt a great sense of relief and an overwhelming sense of grief.
Investing time and energy into something you believed in was taxing at the best of times.
It had been many months of campaigning, handing out flyers, attending rallies, believing in a cause you thought was right and the proper way for the country to move forward.
Added to that was the realization that the vote was sure to go in their favour. After all, the cause was just, the policies well thought out and constructive and sure to benefit everyone.
In the back of his mind was the thought that with victory would come some relief for the working class, no more working two jobs to make ends meet.
Their leader was charismatic, he and other hung off his every word, believed what he said he meant.
But now he wondered if it had all been a ruse.
Initially, it did feel as thought his entire world was burning up in front of him. It was over, the votes had been counted, his side had come up short.
Devastated by the result, he descended into a grief he didn’t know was possible. The bottom had fallen out of his world, their opponent, the most dislikeable and obnoxious of characters had succeeded, the thought of him as leader was sickening to him.
But life he knew didn’t always go the way you wanted. His grief and anger would subside. In a few years, there would be another vote. By then, people would have realised what a mistake they had made when they came to see the man they elected as nothing more than a charlatan.
So as much as seeing the jubilation of the elected party, he planned to support the opposition and work to having them elected the next time around.
For the moment it was a matter of turning off the TV news and not allowing himself to feel he was having his nose rubbed in it by the media coverage.