The morning of June 12 seemed like an ordinary day for me as I rolled out of bed at around 10 a.m. I habitually grabbed my iPhone, which greeted me with a long list of notifications as usual. An email from PayPal, a friend request on Facebook, and a comment on an Instagram picture. I scrolled down to the bottom, where I saw a New York Times notification. “At least 50 people are dead in the shooting at a gay nightclub in Florida, officials say; the shooter is identified as Omar Mateen.”

My heart dropped. The shooting? There was a shooting? 50 people, dead? All while I was sleeping? Then came the same feelings that people all across the country shared that terrible morning. Fear, anger, disgust, sadness, hate, and pain.

The people in Orlando were out to have a good time and let loose on a Saturday night, which is a practice I see my fellow college students do each weekend to escape the stressful world around them. The people in Orlando, however, were not able to escape the world. The world was supposed to stay outside of Pulse. Instead, it busted through the front door in the form of bullets that wielded screams, pain, blood, and death.

The majority of the 49 victims were part of the LGBTQ+ community. The world is already hard enough on these people and they were gunned down for having the gall to confront their world with fun, excitement, and expression. I imagine that life was great for the occupants of Pulse up until 2 a.m., when love, pleasure, and exhilaration were suddenly shot out of the air by bullets from an AR-15.

I scrolled through my Facebook news feed, where I saw my friends posting about Orlando. Most of the posts were by friends who are also members of the LGBTQ+ community. I read posts backed by anger, disgust, and confusion, but I could tell that pain, sadness, and mourning were all hidden elements in these posts. I wanted to be able to understand their pain, but I couldn’t. I was hurting, but I couldn’t imagine how my LGBTQ+ friends felt. Attacks on minorities are still very present in our society, but I am not a minority. I am fully aware that I cannot experience as much hurt as my friends. This made me angrier.

I then saw a few posts that related to the debate of gun control in the United States, which always seems to reignite after the monthly mass shooting. Whatever stances that people take on the issue should not matter after 49 people are mercilessly gunned down. I saw way too many posts about crazy liberals who will have a new excuse to take away more guns. Am I the only person who literally said out loud, “who cares?” People are dead. Loved ones have been lost. Families are torn apart. Violence is a part of human nature, but are humans so obsessed with violence to the point where guns become more important than human lives?

Anti-Muslim comments and memes were not in shortage after the attack. One of the memes that I saw pictured a gun salesman who cleverly says, “your background check is all good, but I need you to eat a piece of this bacon, or no sale!” Again people felt the need to group Muslims into one category of people: terrorists.

Someone on Facebook shared a link to an article titled “Here Are All the People Applauding the Orlando Gay Club Shooter.” I truly couldn’t believe that there were people in the world who were glad the attack happened, so I clicked on the link because I needed to see these posts for myself. Here are some of them, word for word:

“The only good thing about the Orlando Shooting is that it was a gay club. So less gays in the world today.”

“I as an individual would congratulate and give thumbs up to the brother who killed filthy gays at #orlando shooting.”

“OK… At least it was only gays. Not like they add anything to mankind: Except disease – bit of a non – story really.”

“Sinners being taken out by sin.”

“At least it was just gays this time and not innocent people.”

I realize now that we live in a world where hate exists in all aspects of our lives. We talk about the food we hate. We talk about how much we hated that movie. People complain and talk about how much they hate Mexicans for coming to our country and stealing our jobs. We hate the fact that there are gay couples holding hands or kissing in public places. We can’t stand people wearing traditional robes and headdresses because they follow a religion that groups like ISIS have radicalized. Such religious clothing becomes symbolic of terror and Americans hate anyone who wears it.

Hate is only one step shy of action. Omar Mateen and his AR-15 is emblematic of what happens when that extra step is taken.

After thinking about all the hate in this world, I thought about the one thing that could always beat it. It was hidden, but I could see it just as clearly as hate as long as I was looking for it. It mostly came in the form of heartfelt posts about the ones lost at Pulse, but I also heard it in the voices of late-night talk show hosts who decided to use their voices for serious talk instead of comedy. I heard it, symbolically and literally, in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s sonnet that he read at the 2016 Tony Awards.

“And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love. Cannot be killed or swept aside.”

Love is the one thing that can save us from a world of hate, fear, pain, and anger. The reason we see so much hate in our world is that we have forgotten how to love. Some of us love, but many of us hate, and the rest just continue on untouched by the world around them like zombies. The way to combat the bloody, violent hate seen in Orlando is not with more hate. We need to love more. Show support for the victims by taking an interest in who they were as people. Be ready to stand by our Muslim neighbors who will certainly be lashed out against for their religion. Stand up for the marginalized and speak out against bigotry and hate speech that does absolutely nothing but impede our progress in becoming a model society. This is how we keep love from dying and ensuring that love wins in the end.

I can be optimistic after Orlando because I see all of these things come out of a few people at a time. Many of us are still silent or aiding hate’s progress, but I see love peeping through the thick black cloud that shadows us. When a handful of us Americans express love after tragedy, I can see hope. If all of us learn to follow suit, I can see us finally being great.