I don’t want to remember where I was September 11th.

I don’t want to remember September 11th. I don’t want to remember the double tragedy September 11th was for me. I don’t want to remember the atmosphere of campus, that night before, when classes were cancelled the next day for our president’s inauguration. I don’t want to remember the hope of a night of partying rewarded with the bliss of no classes the next day.

I don’t want to remember roaming from party to party, hoping to see you, hoping to see you excited to see me. I don’t want to remember, again, running away from my friends, to find you. I don’t want to remember the hope of thinking this time, you would want me to be there. I don’t want to remember the taste of vodka mixed with desperation.

I don’t want to remember finding you, in your dorm suite. I don’t want to remember the blur of alcohol, clouding my perceptions. I don’t want to remember the look of annoyance on your face.

I don’t want to remember you forcing yourself. I don’t want to remember you asking me “isn’t this what you want?” I don’t want to remember lying there, crying, your roommate playing music loudly and yelling at me to get out of his room.

I don’t want to remember crying in the shower, early morning, slicing my legs with scissors, trying to hurt myself more to forget the pain.

I don’t want to remember waking up the next day, sheets stuck to the open wounds on my legs. The call from my roommate’s mother.

I don’t want to remember my tragedy wrapped up in our nation’s tragedy. I don’t want to remember hatred spewing. I don’t want to remember hiding my own personal tragedy. I don’t want to remember feeling scared, and helpless, as myself, as a citizen.

I don’t want to remember how I think of this so often. I don’t want to remember how sometimes, randomly, a knot catches in my throat and my eyes well with tears because I am remembering. I don’t want to remember how I’ve never been in a relationship, truly, and how I just want someone to stick around long enough to make me feel worthy. I don’t want to remember how this is how I define my worth. I don’t want to remember how every time a relationship fails, I think back to this. I don’t want to remember how I feel so many men in my life have just used me, and wanted me for nothing more.

I don’t want to remember the shame and embarrassment I will feel for sharing this. The selfishness.

I want to remember bravery. I want to remember courage, healing. I want to remember unity, I want to remember finding my voice. I want to remember it’s okay to not feel whole sometimes. I want to remember I am okay. I want to remember it’s okay if sometimes I’m not.