This morning, on September 11, many of us reflect. I think about where I was 11 years ago today when the first plane hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m. This morning, I rode a creaky subway to work, my thoughts consuming me. As I meandered my way through the humid tunnels and up toward a buzzing Times Square, I passed six middle-aged men wearing Army uniforms. I emerged onto the street, my cheeks graced by the cool hints of fall, picked up my iPhone, and called someone that matters very much to me.
We dated for almost three years...
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Written by Emily Abbate for The Stir.