I think there’s something wrong with me.

This past Monday marked the fifth year anniversary of 9/11. There was stuff all over tv, newspapers, etc. about it. Mandy and I chat some about it, she talks about how she got really upset and cried like a baby that night because of it. Then I read NY Mandy’s blog and how it affected her. Then today I see Cristina’s blog about it. And I still just don’t care. Yeah, it was a tragedy, and a lot of innocent people died, but for whatever reason, I’m not bothered by it. I mean, I want to go see where the trade centers were, but I think it’s more out of curiosity than out of homage to those who lost their lives. So I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I remember that day – and trying to call Laurie to find out if her mom was okay because she lives in NY, trying to call Kay to find out if her parents were okay – they live in DC, calling Kirsten to find out if she was okay (I still don’t know why) – she lives in DC, etc. but that was it. I only know of one person that I know that worked in the trade center and he got out. I even know his story about that day. I still have that “eh, whatever” feeling though. So what the hell is wrong with me? Maybe it’s because I think the US is finally receiving the same treatment its been doling out for years. Maybe I think it’s because countless innocent people have lost their lives due to our stupid president. Maybe I look at the bombing of Hiroshima and all those people that died at the hands of the US, and I think – hey – it happens. And now it’s happened here, now we know what it feels like. Perhaps I’ve just given up altogether on the idea that countries might be able to solve their problems without killing people. I guess I’ve just resolved to accept it for what it is – senseless acts by those who think killing people will accomplish something. And in 800 years from now, when they finally grow up and realize war is not the answer to *any* problem, it’s just not going to matter to me anymore. I think I also figure I’m going to die one way or the other – so I just don’t care if it’s from some plane crashing into my place of work or if I slam my car head-on into a tree. 9/11 has made me realize that I need to tell people that I love them, and make every effort to spend time with them because you never know what could happen. But I don’t get all emotional about it. It just is. Kind of like “okay, it happened, let’s move on.” I’m not saying we shouldn’t forget it – but we don’t need to linger…we don’t need to retaliate.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is: 9/11. I just don’t care. And I feel guilty that I don’t care. But I have my reasons. And I think they’re valid.