Columbine 23 year later

 23 years.

23 years is a whole, adult person. And it has been that many years ago.

Sometimes the details of that day are kind of foggy and unclear. The more time goes by, the easier it is to mix up the timeline or  things differently. 

I question my memory and my version of events. I remember that day being gloomy and over cast- while many others recall it being a bright, sunny Spring day in Littleton.

I might associate that day as being dreary because that is what it became. But in my mind, that's how I picture that day when I close my eyes.

Running out of the school. Walking to the public library. Waiting outside for my mom.

The days that followed felt like a cloud and a dream- foggy- therefore dark and rainy in my memory.

But of all the things I can't quite remember- the emotions and feelings of that day are clear and crisp in my memory.

Smells and sounds and feelings bring me right back to that day. The fear I felt still creeps back into my dreams and hit me when I least expect it to.

I know what I went through, but sometimes it seems so crazy- that it happened to me, to us.

But 23 years later things are good. I struggle with being scared, with fears, with worrying, with watching, with jumping to conclusion, with not trusting others, with all the things that trauma can bring.

Will that ever leave? I really don't know. But it is there as a reminder of what I've been through and how far I've come, too.

I'm proud of my history. I'm proud to be a Columbine Rebel. I'm proud that I've liven my life in a way that has been productive and inspiring. I'm grateful for what I've been through and for my story and for my pain.

I hope I can continue to learn and grow and progress and heal. Some years are harder than others. Some Aprils are hard than others. Some are easier. Sometimes memories come flooding back and sometimes I let them hit and I feel them. Sometimes I push them away and think of them another day.

But my wounds are now scars and aren't as obvious to others and even myself at times. But they're there to remind me and sometimes the ache returns, the pain and I've learned to sit with it and feel it and then continue to move forward.

So, 23 years later, even though it feels weird to say and it seems like so long ago it's still a big part of who I am and who I have become.