"This wasn't supposed to happen." That's all I kept mumbling to myself when Donald Trump [1] was announced the winner in Florida on the big screen TVs at the Javits Center in New York City; I stood by the stage just a few feet away from the podium, where at the beginning of the night of Nov. 8, I thought Hillary Clinton would stand to accept the presidency.

I watched it all crumble. A woman in a white pantsuit with a Clinton action figure in the pocket of her blazer — who earlier in the night had told me she was inspired by the candidate to run for public office — fell to the floor, crying, as the man with her tried to console her. To my left, another young woman wearing an HRC t-shirt sobbed quietly as she dried her tears with a white handkerchief. In front of me, a gay couple hugged, trying to come to terms with what was happening. I held back tears.

When POPSUGAR secured credentials to attend the Hillary For America's Election Night party [2] just mere days before voting day, the polls were telling us this was meant to be her night, and I was ready to be part of history. Nothing could have prepared me for the disappointment, the tears, and the frustration that would fill the night.

When I first arrived at the convention center, selected by Hillary Clinton's team for its glass ceiling [3], it was only 3 p.m. The polls were still open across the country, but staffers, press, and a few scattered supporters were hyped. Everyone was optimistic and confident, snapping selfies with their Hillary pins as the production team vacuumed the US-shaped stage and worked on the podium, painstakingly hanging American flags around the bleachers that would hold excited supporters as the former secretary of state gave her speech.

I wasn't even supposed to be in the room. My press credentials didn't give me access to the floor, only to the media room, but I snuck in, wanting to be in the midst of it all for the action. As the floor filled with guests, I made my way to the front, standing shoulder to shoulder with people, quickly befriending everyone around me as we stood for hours not even wanting to step out for a restroom break so as to not lose our prime spot for the night's festivities.

The first polls closed at 7 p.m. and even though Clinton was behind in electoral votes after Trump took Indiana and Kentucky and she won Vermont, no one was worried. Even after Clinton lagged behind with Trump winning Texas and Ohio, everyone around me could only see a bright future.

But then, you know what happened. Trump swept several more states, quickly growing his electoral votes and making a win for Clinton difficult, if not impossible.

The mood in the room shifted. Only a few people sang along to Rachel Platten's "Fight Song." [4] Everyone in the pit tried but failed to get excited to the chants of "I believe that she will win." Not even Katy Perry [5] could get the crowd excited again as everyone nervously checked their phones for any news, whispering: "Please, oh, please, don't let him take Florida."

It wasn't looking good, but people kept their hopes up until the very last minute. At 11:30 p.m., eight and a half hours after I first illicitly entered the main stage, Trump took Florida, almost certainly securing the presidency. The room went silent.

I considered myself lucky early in the night, thinking I was about to witness history. Regardless of your political affiliations, you have to admit a Clinton win would have been one for the books.

I thought about what I would say to my kids, if I ever have any, about that day I saw the first female president of the United States win, how I would make it a point to pay attention and remember her words as she was saying them, savoring every second of her speech. I didn't get that. Instead I got to witness passion from supporters who believed in their leader deeply. I got to see acts of kindness and love as strangers comforted each other through tough times. They gave me hope that one day, perhaps, I will get my historic moment — one day, hopefully not too far away.