Weep not for the Memories

I remember that day to the T. I mean every detail. I remember how my mom, my sister, and I just stared at the tv with our mouths open. My mom had the family on redial desperately trying to get through, tears streaming down her face. My sister and I hugged each other (it was a first in a very long time).
I had just woken up after the second plane hit the other tower. I didn't know if I was still dreaming or not. My sister was telling me what had happened, but it sounded like she was in a tunnel. Every tv in the house was on. I had never watched that much tv, let alone news, in my entire life. My face had the imprint of the couch pressed deep onto it. I layed on the couch all day and all night. I was numb. I could not grasp what was going on. So juvenile, so naive. I have seen things that happen across the world from the comfort of my couch. I knew things like this happen. I never thought they'd happen to my country, to me.
Today it's hitting me much harder then I'd ever expect. It's still so fresh in my mind. The gaggle of pictures and newscasts throughout the day further highten flashbacks from that day. Maybe it's time to grieve now.