I started working on this entry on September 12th 2001...the day after. I never got around to posting it, simply because there were more important things to worry about. But here it is, a month delayed, but no less heartfelt:

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I count New York City as a second home. I lived on Manhattan for a number of years. For two of those years I had a clear view of the lower part of the island -- and the World Trade Center -- from my bedroom window. When the bomb went off in 1993, I saw the smoke, and the implications frightened me. I can't even begin to imagine the fear felt by those who saw the Twin Towers collapsing before their eyes. It's completely unimaginable. And as for those trapped within, and their families...there are no words.

For a while, I had an ambivalent relationship with the city, with Manhattan in particular. When I left I was happy to get away. It wasn't the easiest place in the world to live in. It was stressful, often depressing, to be wrapped in concrete and to share the streets, subways, and buses with millions of people every minute of every day. I was raised out in the country, and Manhattan is as far from the countryside as you can possibly get. It's the Metropolis with a capital 'M'.

But still...every time I have returned to the city in the years since I moved back to Norway, I've realised how much I miss New York. Unlike most visitors who only get to see tiny glimpses of what the city has to offer, I have lived there. I know the city better than I know any other city. I used to walk around on weekends, visiting new neighbourhoods, finding new streets and shops and sights. I have lived in apartments in both Greenwich Village and the East Village, and on the Upper East Side. Visiting Manhattan is like meeting an old friend; the familiar sights and sounds are a comfort. And often I wish I could go back and live there again, at least for a while.

Now more than ever, in fact, I want to go back. Why? Because when someone you love is hurt, you want to be with that someone. It's perhaps strange to think of a city as a "someone", but then you probably haven't lived in New York City. The city's like a person. It has character. It has a soul. And it has distinguishing features, some flattering, some not. The Twin Towers was one -- or two -- of them. Perhaps not the most beautiful examples of New York's architecture, they were nevertheless an integral part of the Manhattan skyline. I was proud of those buildings. They were part of what made New York City -- my city -- the greatest city on Earth.

New York's still the greatest city on Earth. That hasn't changed. In some ways, it might be even greater than it ever was. Because of what's happened, the city's grown stronger. It's grown more caring. It's been hurt, but it's pulled together. I want to go back because I want to see for myself how New York City has changed, and -- perhaps most importantly -- how it's still the same city. I miss it. I really do.  ¶ 16:46