I love us.
And this is the day I think of us the most: of you racing into our dorm, the panicked look on your face. Of Aliya telling me to turn on the news and my thinking it was some horrific accident. Of Nur needing shoes. Not understanding what was happening but knowing we had to go somewhere. Anywhere. The walking to Grand Central. How everyone was walking and talking and seemingly cooperating without knowing what we were cooperating with. We tried to give blood. You were so scared, you get that worried look on your face. I think I was in numb "go" mode. We took the train and the people waiting, Nur said, all with their eyes and hands in desperate shapes hoping their loved ones would walk off.
All we did was watch television. And NYU said it was ok to come back and we did and we walked back just how we came. This became the year of easy As and blackouts. Of living in hotels. Of making new friends and new neighbors, of learning the beautiful art of nihilism while earning a college degree. Of dressing up and strutting past the miles of fences with posters of "have you seen me?" so many pictures and candles on the streets asking us if we've seen anyone, dead or alive. Of brutal sex. Of Angel saying he laughed when the towers fell. This was when armed men in camouflage stood guard at the subway. This was when Nur started to cough and never stop. This was when a lesion began growing inside me. This was when we learned how death could be so stunningly seductive. This was when we didn't give a fuck and fucked around about it.
This was a Tuesday. The weather was beautiful.
This is when I think of us.
just some things usually on my mind....