I remember it as the day my father was supposed to be at the towers, but decided to cancel his meeting at the last minute.
I wish he hadn't. I wish he had gone that day. I wish he had died.
While on the one hand, I do feel like a horrible person for thinking this, my father is a terrible man who has caused me so much pain and mental illness over the course of my life, and the last 9 years in particular.


