The recent bombings at the Boston Massacre have really made my heart ache. I moved away from Boston last August after living there for two years. I went to Copley Square many times. I walked those streets, I know those buildings. I was in Copley Square on Marathon Monday two years ago, and last year I was watching the marathon where it passed by my apartment at Cleveland Circle. My friend and co-worker of two years was just around the corner from the bombings and her husband was running the race, half a mile away.
I know that if I had not lived there I would not feel this as keenly. I'm so glad that I lived in Boston for two years. I loved my time there and I just love moving to different places and forming attachments. Bits of my life are tied to Maryland, Wisconsin, Louisiana, Massachusetts, and Illinois. And I know I'll most probably move again.
Patriot's Day (the day of the Boston marathon) feels like Boston's version of the 4th of July. It is just so so horrible that that wonderful joyous day turned into a horrific event.
I cannot think of anything to say about this sad day that hasn't been expressed hundreds of times over. We don't understand. If we did . . . ? I don't know.
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