9/11

I was in my cubicle at the Oakwood Building in Greensboro. I had just returned from visiting one of my best friends in New York City the previous afternoon. I didn't know how to feel then and I don't know how to feel now. Empty is all. In the lobby of our office building, I sat with a co-worker and wondered aloud...
How?
Why?
Pulling his eyes from the TV, he looked at me and said nothing. Airplanes screamed past the five story glass windows as planes were being grounded immediately and the terror was all around us. Did you hear they hit the State Department? I heard the White House. They're firebombing the Pentagon, my friend told me. There's smoke coming from the Old Executive Building. The towers fall. No. Here, it's on TV now. The Pentagon.
I wanted to go home, because home sounded safe, but home is only a place in my heart and safe is concept in my mind. Home is building now. Safe is memory. Maybe the world didn't change that day. Maybe we all realized that it's not the place we hoped. Eight years later, that's still the hardest lesson.