September 10, 2001

Nine years ago today, I got home and got a phone call from a girlfriend of mine. She and her husband were fighting and she was upset. She wanted to know if worse came to worse, could she stay at my house? I told her of course she could.

Then I called another girlfriend of mine to tell her how down I was feeling. She proceeded to unload all of her problems on me, and I ended up not having a chance to vent.

By the time Marc got home that night I was almost in tears feeling overwhelmed at all the drama that had been foisted on me. Luckily, the first half of "Who Shot Mr. Burns?" was on that night and I got the chance to laugh.

Of course, the next morning none of that mattered anymore. The world I knew, the New York I had just explored that winter was changed forever.

I hope I never forget the horror of that day. Remembering what we went through that day is a constant reminder to live a responsible fulfilling life, to make up for the lives that were lost.