The joy of expectation is a sweet and intoxicating scent, is it not? This past month, that lovely scent filled the air as the hopes of Maine's gay community grew stronger. It appeared that victory for them, and for all of us who supported the dream, was at last at hand.

But those of us old enough to have seen many such a battle, from that bloody bridge in Selma, Ala., in 1965 to the Students for a Democratic Society march on Washington in 1965, know that it's a fragile scent, and how strong and dissipating the winds of opposition can be. We inhaled it on Election Night, Nov. 4, 2008, and today, only 11 months later, we can feel those winds buffeting it.

Sadness is the word we see most in every report of this election. Sadness is everywhere, but sadness is also a fragile thing that can be overcome with, yes, hope. I know it's a much overused word but I love it. As an actor and writer, I've lived on it most of my life.

Hope is the vitamin we take each day to keep us spiritually alive. Whenever I began to lose sight of my goals, when things looked their darkest, I remember that great quote from the writer Graham Greene, who wrote, "There is security only in the grave ... in life there is only hope."

I know that my many gay friends and relatives are getting up this morning and shaking off the despair and going for hope. They are a strong breed, emboldened by love from their families and friends and the knowledge that they are on the right side of history. Their leaders are students of that history, the biographers of the lives of those who fought before them and who were taken down by the winds of ignorance, hatred and violence.

There is little I, as a friend and supporter, can say to help but to put in print here words that might give them that hope, to remind them of Harvey Milk, the first elected openly gay politician in America and martyred hero of that cause, and his famous speech back in 1978 on the defeat of California's Proposition 6 that would ban gay people and their supporters, mind you, from teaching school.

Milk said: "The young gay people in Pennsylvania, in Minnesota who are coming out ... the only thing they have to look forward to is hope ... without hope, not only gays, but blacks, the seniors, the handicapped will give up.... You must tell your neighbors, the people in the stores, people you work with. Once they realize that we are indeed their children, that we are indeed everywhere, every lie, every innuendo will be destroyed once and for all."

We should add to that the words of Barack Obama's campaign guru David Plouffe, who in his new book, "The Audacity To Win," wrote: "We never forgot why we were running. That was our North Star, and we held that star in our sights at all times."

In the film "The Misfits" by Arthur Miller, a bloodied and almost defeated modern-day cowpoke, Gay Langland, draws his girlfriend Roslyn close to him and points to the horizon.

"See that star? We just follow that star, and it'll take us home."

The joy of expectation is a fragile scent, but it is a relentless one. It can be dissipated and blown away by the powerful winds of prejudice and anger. But, like spring, it always comes back, stronger than ever. To my gay friends I can only add, never forget why you are running. Just take a deep breath, smell joy again, and keep your eye on that star. It will take you home.

J.P. Devine's e-mail address is dabu32@roadrunner.com.