Something I jotted down the morning after the fire. It may not make much sense, but my mind was not working properly due to the events of the night before, and due to the fact that I had not slept.
The Morning After
It's the stuff you read about in the paper. It's the stuff you see on TV. It's not ever supposed to happen to you. You think that you can imagine it. You think that you can sympathize with people who have had it happen to them.
You CAN'T. It's beyond anything that you can comprehend. It's beyond your wildest dreams. You can't understand unless you've been there. You can glimpse into the world. You can feel that you're living in the world, but it's not yours. A glimpse is not enough. A glimpse doesn't allow you to understand or feel or do anything as deeply as if it is your own world.
I always thought that I could sympathize. I was wrong. It's impossible until you ARE the victim.
And even though I know that I'm still in a state of shock; I'm still running on adrenaline, and I won't fully realize tonight's horrors until later, I now have the total and complete understanding that
I am a victim. My world has changed. I am a victim.