Tuesday, June 11, 2013
This is an open letter to Andrew Briggs. I spent most of this morning at work outside, surrounded by police helicopters and news helicopters, lots of police officers, a thousand people evacuated from four buildings, Justices being whisked away by security in black sedans, news anchors and camermen and all those drug sniffing dogs. And I got scared. I've had a premonition since my late teens that I would die in an explosion. And with what happened today, well, I thought it was up. And with the emotional clarity that burns off the scales and barnacles we accumulate over the years, I realized one overwhelming thing. I don't want to live my life without you. You know it already, but let me say it again: I don't want to live my life without you.