I don't really miss living in NYC. I don't like Boston very much at all, but I am glad I left New York. It was making me too hard and cynical and impatient.
Except for today. Because no one in the city I live in now gets it. When I tell people in Boston I was living in New York on 9/11, I get the appropriate wide-eyed glances and "wows," but no one really gets it. In fact, hardly anyone has brought it up today at all.
No one who was living in Boston knows how New York smelled that day and for days after; how the smoke and dust seemed to cover the entire city; how everyone walked around in shock for weeks; how it felt to watch those barges haul the mountains of debris up the Hudson; how it felt to scan the photos in the paper and in the news for potential friends, family, classmates. No one in Boston truly understands how scared we all were. New York...for a New York minute...became a scary place to live.
Today I wish I was living in New York. Because I'm sure life went on there as well, but at least I would feel like I was surrounded by people who truly understood.
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