600 lives imploded on Sunday.

Those that were spared were left with the trauma, terror, and image that was supposed to be a Jason Aldean concert.

59 families lost everything. Me? I bought new shoes on Sunday.

This is not a political article. Over the next few weeks, months, and the period of grieving and healing that follows this horrific, unthinkable tragedy, this site will be cluttered with debates. Those of gun control, and those of what can be done, what could have been done, or what should have or should be done.

This is not a political article. This is an article about guilt.

The guilt those of us across the world feel to have to lived October 1st as another Sunday. The rest of us who woke up to the gut wrenching news that fellow citizens had been murdered. Those of us who woke up and still ate breakfast, coffee even. The ones who went out and still bought shoes.

They were murdered on Sunday. We planned for Monday.

The news of Las Vegas seemed to make the world stop. “How do we go on? How do we stop this?” But nothing stopped. In the most earth shattering moments, even for those they affect most, the world keeps on spinning. Time always, constantly goes on. It waits for no one, not even those lost.

I feel guilty that, for me, October 1st still got to be a Sunday.

I love country music. I like Jason Aldean. Why wasn’t I at the concert? Why am I 6,000 miles away, studying in Italy instead? Why someone else and not me? Someone’s daughter, son, mother, father. Someone’s everything.

I think we are all confused, heartbroken, angry, and guilty. Why did October 1st get to be another Sunday for us? Why were they murdered? Why did the world not stop spinning? Why didn’t it stop for them?

Why, on the day of America’s deadliest mass shooting, did I get to buy shoes?