Five years later and this is the best I can do...

I have tried so hard to write a post about the passing of five years and the anniversary of September 11th. Everything I have begun and erased has been disjointed and disconnected; much like my thoughts. I think I will just have to leave it this way. The thing is, all this time later and I still have a very difficult time talking about it. The events of that day changed all of our lives forever.
I was working at a local DC radio station and didn't have to be at work until 11am. The news was on; I had just gotten out of the shower. As soon as the first plane hit, I grabbed my shoes and went straight to work. I lived in Virginia at the time and I heard a strange noise on my way in. When I arrived at the station, I learned the Pentagon had been hit. I knew that day would change our nonessential entertainment jobs to that of much more importance. I was very aware that the show I worked for had flown up the night before to broadcast from our New York sister station. My roommate, also a staff member of the show, had flown up that morning. I started calling her cell phone right away. I didn't know her flight number and I was scared -terrified- but strangely calm. My cell phone wouldn't work. My apartment was less than a mile from the station; I arrived to "Thank goodness you're here, nothing is working right, see if you can get in touch with New York."
I ran to my office where I found the phones would not work but somehow, I had left my Instant Messenger on overnight. It was still working. There were only three computers in the station that still had internet access and our phones to NY were jammed.
I shouted that I had IM contact with our NY sister station and my office flooded with people. My roommate was okay as were the rest of the staff.
We decided to go on the air right then -if we could get a link between our stations. The amazing engineers rigged a way to broadcast from our NY station and we were On.
Our shock-jock show became a news and information broadcast. We were, of course, commercial free and giving out information as any of us could get it. We could get local incoming-only calls at our DC station, I would relay the information to the NY station, and if a listener with information would come through, we would put that person on the air. We did the best with what we had, and I am proud of the news and information we provided. Over the next few days, we simply took calls and let people talk and share their experiences. We had people calling, giving their name and begging other listeners to tell their families they were still alive but couldn't get through. People called to share their stories, their love, hurt, anger, fear and every other emotion we have all endured since this time.
I still don't know how I feel.

That first night, when the Station Manager finally told me to go home, I was afraid to stay by myself. I didn't want to leave the station; it was very late and I was very scared. My mom finally got through to me on my cell phone and told me to go stay with The Mister. The Mister and I had only met two short months before but mom didn't want me to be alone and Aunt Jane was out of town, stuck in Connecticut.
I went to The Mister's where a couple of friends had come by and I finally broke down. There are things about that night I've never told anybody because I couldn't bear to have them trivialized. Maybe someday, when I'm very old, I will be able to share them. Today, though, it is still too fresh.
Everything seemed so finite. So uncertain. It still does.
I pray that the lives and souls affected by these events can somehow find peace.
Five years. It seems so long ago but just like yesterday.