I wrote this last year. I ❤️‘d NY. We did. What people have managed to do to our city we will never forget. That much I promise you. Those responsible, those who enable them; history will not be kind to you. Nor will I.
June 20, 2020
I Was watching a couple short docs about 9/11 (one about the artwork destroyed and recovered and the sorting field on Staten Island.)

I need to get something off my chest.
It’s so strange to have been here for that and now this. I wasn’t afraid that we wouldn’t come back from 9/11. We wouldn’t allow anything but coming back; and not just for us.
It was in the air. You could feel it. Kinetic, emotion, sensory, sentient...all of it. All of us.

This feeling of worse than unsure? Being doubtful, at best? Noticing more signs that...it’s not looking good and hoping for magic feels so awful.
I feel it in my body sometimes...like you feel when something terribly wrong and out of your control happens between someone you adore and yourself. Desperation to fix it paces slow acceptance of what is; both jockeying and fighting to take first position.
It’s heartbreaking in a way I never could have expected or known. I never imagined this would be our city.
It’s almost like a break up. I love this city so much. Deeply. Truly love. Not just the idea of loving it. I love it. I fell
In love with it on that beautiful but terrible Tuesday. Days that look like that day? Clear sky and perfect temperature; simply beautiful. Then terrible.
And truly? Not one similar day comes that I don’t remember and pause to think. I don’t push it away. I’m in a way grateful for it. It’s like nature has a planned seasonal memorial all her own and she’s been on the job too.
The idea that I’m seriously thinking about and want to leave? Every NYer wanted to *be* here. Being a NYer means wanting to be here.

Ouch.
I’ll never forgive some people for what they’ve done to us. (This time.) Never.

I didn’t take this photo, but I stood right there. A few times. For me this image will forever be the memorial.

Nearly 20 years.
I know I could say that the violence and looting downtown was a sign of just how much the city has healed. I want to see it that way, but I don’t. Instead it feels like somehow we failed.
The unity we were forced into then found comfort and pride in incorporating so completely into our being as a New York City and as New Yorkers... gone so suddenly and almost, it feels cruelly ambivalent and belittling. That’s not even quite the word.
Patronizing, dismissive, belittling, immature and selfish all at once. That is how I feel toward the many things that have been done or happened here these 3 months. I’d be lying if I said otherwise or whatever people would want to hear. I miss January.
It hurts losing something that we gained because of that day and who we are...were.

No, not lost. Stolen.
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