Best friends share everything with you.
I remember the stupid argument we had the night before. I remember it so perfectly even though it resolved fairly quickly, even though it was a misunderstanding. I remember that it kept us up until the wee hours of morning, and that we crashed hard into sleep from the sheer emotional exhaustion of it all.
And I remember that when your phone rang and woke me up, I chose to answer it. I don't really know why, except that I figured that whomever was calling you so frickin' early might have something important to say. I actually worried that you were getting fired or something, because you'd taken a personal day to be with me. So I answered blearily, and was met with high-pitched hysteria on the other end. Kim was shrieking about a plane that crashed into the Empire State and that people were running and oh my god. She said something about "the other tower" and my sleepy thought was, 'Kim needs to learn the names of the buildings.' So I thumped into your bedroom, thrust the phone at you, and said, "Kim's screaming about something about a plane and the Empire State, but I'm pretty sure she means the World Trade Center." I left your room with the idea of going back to sleep but thought it might be a good idea to turn on the television instead. Just in case.
Every channel was locked on billowing smoke, airplanes in buildings, mass hysteria, the unability to explain it all. Eventually you'd managed to convince Kim that you were not at work today and that's why she couldn't find you, and you joined me. We were fixated. At one point I commented randomly, "I find it totally amazing that a giant plane can crash into that building and it can still be standing." Within seconds, one fell. Then the other. I jinxed them. Our mouths fell open. Literally. We sat there, maws gaping in disbelief along with millions of other people. My only surety was the low pressure of your leg against my leg. Thank god for that.
It still hadn't occured to either of us that people would be worried about us. I guess because we were sure of our locations and status, everyone else must be as well. And we were exhausted. At some point, we decided to call our fathers to tell them what happened. I think we were too shocked to think about how the whole world was probably watching the same footage. I called my father and left him a message telling him that he should turn on the news because a totally freaky thing had happened.
Suspension of disbelief, perhaps? I remember that you called your father and he broke down. It was the first time you'd ever heard him cry. Your parents were so thankful that I was in town, because it kept you home that day. Your whole family called looking for news. People were posting on LiveJournal, hoping that I was okay. It never occurred to me that people would worry. Why would I be there? I was sleeping in Queens. My mother called and she was hysterical. Later, my ex-husband called, frantic with worry. I remember being angry. 'You lost your right to be concerned,' I thought. I'll blame that shittiness on my shock.
The world watched, and we watched, and it was so close and yet so far. We walked down the road to get donuts and remarked how everything looked the same on your road in Queens. The same trash on the street, the same sunlight through the buildings that block the view of the skyline. We got into Dunkin Donuts and everyone looked like we did: glassy and stunned.
We walked back, spent the day in front of the television making phone calls. Our theatre tickets were cancelled. Your flower delivery was cancelled. Our beloved skyline was cancelled.
~//~
I remember picking ash and dust out of my friend's hair.
I remember making love to try to put something right back into my reality.
I remember.
And I remember that when your phone rang and woke me up, I chose to answer it. I don't really know why, except that I figured that whomever was calling you so frickin' early might have something important to say. I actually worried that you were getting fired or something, because you'd taken a personal day to be with me. So I answered blearily, and was met with high-pitched hysteria on the other end. Kim was shrieking about a plane that crashed into the Empire State and that people were running and oh my god. She said something about "the other tower" and my sleepy thought was, 'Kim needs to learn the names of the buildings.' So I thumped into your bedroom, thrust the phone at you, and said, "Kim's screaming about something about a plane and the Empire State, but I'm pretty sure she means the World Trade Center." I left your room with the idea of going back to sleep but thought it might be a good idea to turn on the television instead. Just in case.
Every channel was locked on billowing smoke, airplanes in buildings, mass hysteria, the unability to explain it all. Eventually you'd managed to convince Kim that you were not at work today and that's why she couldn't find you, and you joined me. We were fixated. At one point I commented randomly, "I find it totally amazing that a giant plane can crash into that building and it can still be standing." Within seconds, one fell. Then the other. I jinxed them. Our mouths fell open. Literally. We sat there, maws gaping in disbelief along with millions of other people. My only surety was the low pressure of your leg against my leg. Thank god for that.
It still hadn't occured to either of us that people would be worried about us. I guess because we were sure of our locations and status, everyone else must be as well. And we were exhausted. At some point, we decided to call our fathers to tell them what happened. I think we were too shocked to think about how the whole world was probably watching the same footage. I called my father and left him a message telling him that he should turn on the news because a totally freaky thing had happened.
Suspension of disbelief, perhaps? I remember that you called your father and he broke down. It was the first time you'd ever heard him cry. Your parents were so thankful that I was in town, because it kept you home that day. Your whole family called looking for news. People were posting on LiveJournal, hoping that I was okay. It never occurred to me that people would worry. Why would I be there? I was sleeping in Queens. My mother called and she was hysterical. Later, my ex-husband called, frantic with worry. I remember being angry. 'You lost your right to be concerned,' I thought. I'll blame that shittiness on my shock.
The world watched, and we watched, and it was so close and yet so far. We walked down the road to get donuts and remarked how everything looked the same on your road in Queens. The same trash on the street, the same sunlight through the buildings that block the view of the skyline. We got into Dunkin Donuts and everyone looked like we did: glassy and stunned.
We walked back, spent the day in front of the television making phone calls. Our theatre tickets were cancelled. Your flower delivery was cancelled. Our beloved skyline was cancelled.
~//~
I remember picking ash and dust out of my friend's hair.
I remember making love to try to put something right back into my reality.
I remember.