Sixteen Years

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Today was incredibly somber for me, and I am certain other people felt this way, as well. Every year, a deep part of me re-lives 9/11. I wasn’t afraid, not for a second, but I was definitely in silent, angry shock. Sixteen years later, I still can’t believe all that has transpired since that day.

I haven’t been back home in a long time. I miss it. I’ll never stop being proud of where I come from. My city, every part of it, is deeply enmeshed in who I am. Someone told me that they like where I live now “because it’s kind of like New York, but much smaller”. Yeah, not so much.

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