Life as Experienced by a Dreamer

11 September 2011. 10 years after the world stopped turning - for most of us in the US at least. Almost everyone remembers exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news. For me, after initially hearing my grandma exclaim over the phone that the second plane had hit in NY, the rest of the day was somewhat of a blur. I remember the neighbor coming over and me and my family going to watch the events unfold with her, because no one wanted to be alone that day. I remember hanging on to every word that Pres. Bush said in his speech afterwards. I remember the feeling of hopelessness and anger. And now, ten years later, I still feel the rush of anger and indignation at the thought of such needless deaths. Of such violence toward unsuspecting civilians. I think of my upcoming deployment and wish that I didn't need to go invade the privacy of another country's citizens. But I know that unfortunately for them, and for the family I will leave behind for so long, I must. To prevent the terror that they harbor (willingly or not) from causing such pain to my country's people again. Because as I remember 10 years ago as a terrible tragedy that a few words cannot adequately describe and an act forcing the US to enter a war against terrorists that other countries have long been fighting, others remember this day with a pain that most will be lucky enough to never feel, and a fear that those same terrorists will want to commemorate their loss with even more loss. And that, that fear that Americans still have of a violent attack on their own soil, that is what makes my job most important. And I train for years on end and deploy for months on end to fight a battle not really my own, to banish that fear from my nation.