We are Boston strong

Right now I'm sitting here quite literally blubbering into a plate of chocolate chip cookies. A Redditor found a picture of Martin, the 8 year old boy who died in Monday's bombing, in their collection of photos from that day. Martin is happy and smiling as he watches the runners. That was probably his last photo ever. He and his mother and sister had no idea that he was going to die only a few minutes later.

There is nothing I can do, and I hate it. I wasn't anywhere near the race or finish line that day. I have no eyewitness accounts, no pictures or videos to submit to the FBI, nothing. I know that's true of many Bostonians, a majority of the city's population was not at that finish line. But I feel so useless. My city is grieving, people are suffering, and I can't do anything about it. I cannot return limbs to the people who lost them. I cannot bring Martin back. I cannot solve this crime or go back in time and prevent it from happening.

I feel as though I do not have a right to my intense sadness right now. My loved ones and I are fine and I can go about my days as normal, as I have been trying to do. But ever since Monday I have felt something heavy in my stomach, something weighing me down. I feel guilty that I am useless in this situation. The best I can do is post an encouraging Facebook status and leave flowers at the memorial of  my fellow BU student who was also a victim of the bombs. But I can do nothing of use or value and this bothers me.

I will do the only thing I can do: keep calm and Boston on.


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