On November 1, 2001, I rode a shuttle bus from Newark International Airport to Grand Central Station in Manhattan. I remember the bus rounding a bend on the highway and the New York skyline coming into view, and it was...broken. I curled up in my seat and called Will in California, crying quietly into my cell phone and trying not to look at my city.
In June of 2003 my father and I went to J+R Computer World. When we left we crossed the street and walked past a church. I was disoriented. "What's over there?" I asked him. It was the World Trade Center, once upon a time. I didn't recognize it because it was gone.
Last Monday Will and I went into New York with his parents and ate lunch with Erik and Nova. I couldn't find the place in the sky where the towers belong.