Yesterday was the 18th anniversary of 9/11. 18 years ago, I sat through my 8am class at Indiana University unaware of the horror happening in our country. Those were the days when I channeled my undiagnosed A.D.D. through doodling, writing lyrics and literal daydreaming which, often times, morphed into sleeping through class. Whoops. I will never forget that morning. None of us will. Everyone has their story of that morning. Where they were when they found out. Where they were when they watched the second tower fall. The people they knew that were there. The people that were in the towers that shouldn’t have been. The people that weren’t and should have been. The people that showed bravery on the darkest of days at the darkest of hours. The heroes that emerged amongst us. We put our differences aside and we loved that day. If you think about it, that tragedy, sadly, is the last time this country felt united.
Being Post-Vietnam kids and experiencing 9/11, I’ve heard that my generation tends to be more patriotic. I don’t know if that’s necessarily true but I what I do know is that we don’t see airports the same way other generations do. Not only do I get to second base with TSA almost every time I travel because of my non-existent thigh gap but a tiny voice in the back of my mind I can barely hear reminds me that this could be it. I get the slightest bit nervous when I get on a plane. I think to myself, ‘is this the last flight?‘ I don’t mean to be pessimistic, it just happens. I try to make eye contact with every single person as I walk by. I clock anything I deem suspicious. It’s a bit paranoid and I hate that 18 years later, I still do it. Perhaps it’s just habit now. I pick my “team” the whole way down the aisle like I’m a kickball captain. The people I believe would rise as leaders in the event things went south. (I did NOT mean to make a pun. I would never.) It’s not something I think about, I just do it. Then I sit in my seat and wonder how I would react in a crisis. My past has proven that what I think I would do and what actually happens are not one in the same and it frightens me.
It’s ironic how tragedy glues us together. Days of remembrance do that. We are reminded of what we have…and what we have to lose. It strips away the pettiness, the day-to-day wear and tear, the unnecessary stress. When you lose someone you love, none of that seems to matter anymore. Not a single bit. When you realize that any moment could be your last, your life becomes saturated with meaning and direction so quickly. I live my life under the constant delusion that I have all the time in the world. There are so many things I would do differently if I knew when my time expired. I’d be bolder. I’d be edgier. I’d finally shave my head like I’ve always wanted to. I’d buy that ticket to Greece. I would make every single moment mine in all the ways. I would eat more sweets, read more books, spend way more time in the theater and live like a royal highness. I’d for sure be way less concerned with whatever the hell is going on upstairs.
(Sigh) . My neighbors upstairs have gone full mortal kombat. Not only are they now throwing afternoon raves into the mix but they are now cleaning AND screaming at each other at the same time. So they’re even louder than normal to compensate for the vacuum so they can hear each other. I really wish you could see my face right now, because there is a lot being said with this look. If I wasn’t so afraid I’d miss more comedy gold, I’d put on headphones. I’m a glutton for punishment, what can I say? These two idiots claim to be in love and here I am in my bedroom slash living room waiting for love like a five-year-old waiting for Santa Claus while the two crackheads upstairs ruin everything good about it. Love should bring us together. Their love makes me wanna run for the hills.
Speaking of things people love that bring them together, I finally got on board with Fleabag. If you have not watched it and plan to, SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH. It took me a few tries. Everyone kept raving about it and so I persisted. I am now a huge fan. I apologize to the universe for it taking so long. She spoke to me on so many levels. In one episode, she is complaining about dating and people in general saying they’re shit. The woman she’s talking to reminds her that ‘People are all we’ve got.‘ And she’s right. A few episodes later, she’s speaking of the death of her mother. She says she ‘doesn’t know where to put all the love she has for her‘. I kept rewinding and watching that part over and over. It broke me to the point of tears. Grief is such a hard moment in time to put into words. I’ve heard very few things that are able to speak a whisper of it. Even less that make you feel like there’s another person on this planet who understands the numb sedation you’ve been under. Life is but a dream. It sure does feel that way sometimes. Anyways, I might watch the whole thing all over again. It’s that good. I am not exactly sure what my original problem was, but it goes to show you that first impressions aren’t always right and that second chances can be worth it.
I’m going to do my part in trying to love more. Trying to understand more. Trying to LISTEN more. My brothers think I preach too much. Let me be clear. I am not preaching to anyone in particular but myself. Trust me, if there is anyone on this planet who still has some figuring out ahead of her or is in need of some guru guidance, it’s this girl. I still don’t have matching silverware, a car or an evening moisturizing regime. I’m one step away from a reality show. Please don’t ever, for a single second, think I am speaking from a pedestal or like I am some sort of magical sage. I rarely know what I’m talking about. I’m an idiot. Ask any of my friends. They know. Sometimes, however, I string some words together and they’re beautiful and I get the feeling that they might mean something to someone else. Maybe something else entirely. Maybe something more. Bottom line is, I’m just a girl who likes to write things out loud. That’s my entire agenda.
Wearing socks with sandals are on trend, so it’s true. Everything really has gone to shit. That is a trend I will never ever believe in, support or participate in. That’s gonna be a no for me, dawg. However, it does prove that we are capable of evolving and that anything is possible. If people can fall in love with socks and sandals, maybe there’s hope for all of us yet. I want to fall in love like I never meant to. Like I just happened upon it and it fit me like it was mine all along. I want the kind of love that looks at me like I’m enough. Like I’m all there ever was. I don’t know much, but I do know that love will save us. Love will find a way. Love more. Love a lot. Cause ‘when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope‘. (also, from Fleabag) XX