I cannot even believe it’s been one year since the shooting in Munich. It didn’t really occur to us that it was happening until we walked by the train stop. I knew it would happen this summer, but I didn’t remember the exact day, a privilege only those who did not lose loved ones that day feel.
It seems like it’s been so long and so many things have happened. I’ve gotten married, gone on a honeymoon, got an internship. My life, still here, has changed in so many unseeable ways. I feel so different than a year ago, older, and more weathered. In some ways the feelings of sadness has brought me back to how I was when I first moved here, but it’s hard to forget all I’ve done since then.
I still remember the day. Not every detail, but most of them – the fear, the uncertainty, the anticipation. I remember the next day on the train. And I relive just a fraction, that same hitch of breath, the waiting pause, every time I heard loud noises like that. Just the other night a band in the park was playing and might have released confetti or fireworks and it brought me right back. There was silence afterwards, and J and I were both worried.
It’s in these subtle changes, the heightened sense of self when I walk through the mall, where I feel the effect of the days in between. The strain of fear, turning down my music and hurrying to where I need to go.
I know we have it so good. We were so close to being there. But it still makes me remember all that’s changed.