It's been 10 years

It's been 10 years since the events of 9/11/01. A lot has changed, a lot has actually stayed quite the same. I certainly don't feel a whole decade older. I still feel like I'm in my mid-late 20s. I sort of live that way, too, for better or worse.

The evening of 9/11 I was in my apartment in Washington, DC. It was about 8pm. I'd just returned from my boyfriend's apartment down the street on Wyoming. I'd broken up with him, which sounds pretty heartless, but it was something I'd planned to do the evening before. I felt pretty terrible coming home to an apartment, but the TV was on and my roommate was up drinking wine, so I joined her, and it made things a little bit better.

After that, I went to my room and wrote a little letter, sealed it, and vowed to not open it for a long time. I guess today counts as a long time. Don't get too excited, I didn't find the letter yet. It's lurking somewhere in one of 15 boxes scattered around my sister's house. I didn't have a sudden urge to open it today, though, so I will continue to sit on it for just a bit longer.

The day was an amazing one to live through, my office being just 3 blocks from the White House, we were in the thick of it. I left the office that day without telling my boyfriend I'd gone home (he worked in the same building a few floors up). But I had a pretty good reason. One, I was escorting a woman who was 8 months pregnant to my house on foot. She was on the verge of freaking out and wouldn't consider taking a cab (if we could even find one), getting on a bus or taking the Metro to get home to her house in Alexandria. I thought walking was a better way to observe what was going on around us anyway.

I clearly remember the hordes of people exiting out of office buildings on 13th Street, all headed to a safe place, presumably with friends, colleagues or even strangers. It took us about an hour and a half to get back to my apartment, with a stop in between at the Whole Foods. Inside, my roommate had already arrived and the TV was on. We didn't even consider leaving our neighborhood at that point, despite the fact history was being made and there were probably a lot of amazing photo opportunities just beyond the windows. It was that intense of a day, you just wanted to close the door behind you, lock it and hunker down until you got the ok signal.

My folks presumed I was alright, I don't think they phoned me until later that evening. I felt a little bad about that, but I guess it is good they had confidence in my safety. Still, I think my mom called my sister first.