I know this is late but this is a piece that I wrote about lost love because of the 9/11 tragedy. I hope that I get my point across to people that September 11th was a horrible event in our nation's history. It caused so many people so much pain. I hope that these people are consoled for their losses and I hope that they can get past this, not forgetting their loved ones, but not suffering over the losses either.

This is for all those who have suffered.


They were calling out names. The names of the perished. With each name someone would go up and throw a flower into the pit. That's how it was. All because of a hijacking on flight 93 seven years ago.

And since that plane was hijacked, her only love was gone.

He had always been there for her, her Nathan. He'd never been selfish or mean towards her. He'd always been kind, always showing her love. Every day, he'd told her he loved her. Right up until September 11, 2001.

Lynn shed another tear. She stood ramrod straight next to her younger brother, Gavin. He'd come along to be with her for this, to comfort her. He'd always done that no matter how old they were, always taking the role of the older brother.

Gavin's arm was secured tightly around Lynn's waist. Her face was buried in his shoulder, silent tears dampening the fabric of his sweatshirt. He held the back of her head comfortingly; he stroked her hair, whispering words to her, trying to ease her pain.

"He's in a better place," Gavin would whisper, or, "He wouldn't want you to be like this. He loved you too much and I remember he hated to see you cry." But the phrase that only made her tears come even more quickly was "We both love you, Lynn." She clutched at his body, seeking more comfort than was humanly possible to give. They were getting closer to his name now, as well. That made it worse.

Before 9/11, back in 2001, Lynn was eighteen and happy. She had a pretty good life, was about to start college, and she was engaged.

Lynn and Nathan were deeply in love—the kind of love that would make Gavin—fifteen at the time—gag and leave the room when she and Nathan were talking. Life was sweet and lovely and just downright wonderful for Lynn and Nathan. It was almost too good to be true.

On September 11, 2001, Nathan had called her, early in the morning. She wasn't accustomed to waking up this early, though, so she'd grabbed the phone groggily.

"Hello?" she'd mumbled.

"Hey, hon," Nathan had responded cheerfully. He had been a morning person. "I'm going to be a little late tonight for dinner."

"Why?" Lynn had asked him.

"Well, Carl can't work his shift so I'm taking it for him. You're okay with that, right?"

"I… I guess so," she'd answered quietly. In truth, she'd been a bit disappointed. She'd always looked forward to when Nathan would come over for dinner. It had probably been the highlight of her day.

"Are you sure, love?" he'd asked. "You sound unhappy."

"No. Work's work. You go and rake in some cash. I want to have a really nice apartment." She'd smiled.

He'd laughed a bit. "Okay. I love you."

"I love you, too," she'd told him.

"Bye, hon." The phone had clicked off and the line had gone dead.

Later that day, Lynn was watching the news. She had panicked when she'd seen that the towers had been attacked by terrorists. She knew that that was where Nathan had worked, down on the main floor as one of the security guards. She'd quickly pulled out her cell phone and dialed his number. But the very annoying female voice had said that this phone had been put out of service. Lynn had started to sob. Nathan was gone.

Now, seven years later, they were remembering the death of all those who'd perished. And this was the moment she'd been dreading. The woman at the podium said in a deeply sorrowful voice:

"Rick Nathan Carter."

Lynn raised her head and took Gavin's hand. Slowly, they walked up to the pit. She dropped a single, crimson rose into it. The crimson stood for passion. She never wanted to forget what she and Nathan had shared. Silvery tracks of tears ran down her cheeks, never ending.

"I'll always love you," she whispered. "And I'll see you again. I promise."