Terror crawls into your brain.  It makes you fear every noise, every sound, every pin drop.  It makes you worry about all the things that could happen.  It messes with your focus, your equilibrium, your sanity.  It numbs your senses and creates a chasm between real life and imagined suffering.  It puts your life at a standstill.  You can’t focus on what you have to do because the next siren may go off.  You tell yourself that after “this time” you’ll go back to real life, only to discover that for the time being, this is real life.  Terror wraps itself around your heart until anxiety flows through your veins.  It saps your energy and makes you fear the monster that lurks about.

And then.

Terror makes you realize just how much you love your children, your spouse, your friends, your neighbors, the mailman, and the repairman who lives six doors down whom you have yet to meet.  Terror makes you reach out to your community and care for as many people as your literal and virtual arms can hold.  Terror imbues in you an overwhelming communal responsibility and need for the darkest humor possible. Terror bridges gaps between the family and friends you haven’t spoken to in years, decades, because the fear of what may come is palpable to all.  Terror, it seems heightens our need, our desire, to care for each other.  It reminds us over and over again how much we love this Land and how solemn is our commitment to Her.  Terror binds us, builds us, reconstructs us.  The downpour of rockets levels our existential playing field as shards of metal don’t care how or if you practice.  In the end, we do not seek terror but instead, rise to its occasion.

Despite all the things terror does, we endure. We move forward, we move on, and we prevail.  And there is NOTHING our enemies can do to stop us.

Breathing.  Living.

That is my revenge.

That is my solace.

That is what terrifies my enemy.

 

My,  how the tables have turned.