9/11

On Thursday night I watched a program about the people who were forced to take their own lives and jump from the World Trade Centres. Even to this day my mind, my soul, body, every part of my being cannot seek to comprehend what happened on that day. I was at work on that evening, waitressing at a restaurant, when I heard from some friends who came for coffee. I think that we may have closed the restaurant early, but I can’t be sure, everything felt like a blur after I new.

I got home and got straight on the phone to my boyfriend, who is now my husband, we had been together for 5 months. I was crying, and I felt sick, my body was like jelly. He had seen the second plane hit the tower in real time, and he couldn’t explain how he felt when he saw it, only that he felt dread, pain, and horror. Like everyone I knew, like every face in the newspaper, like every family member trying to find their loved ones, everyone felt horror.

We were on the phone all night, we couldn’t sleep we just laid, 5 or so suburbs apart, each on our beds, eyes glued to the screen. I cannot imagine how those people felt in that building, I can not imagine how their friends and family felt, I cannot imagine how those people felt as they stood on the street, or the feeling that those people felt as they leapt or fell. All I know is what I felt, and that is horror, pain, intense emotion, and to this day goose bumps, a physical reaction to the intensity of that day.