Messages popped up on my Facebook news feed about bombings at the Boston Marathon, and I read them and went on my way. When I got home, my roommate was in the living room, frantic; I still felt unfazed.

It was another catastrophe, another act of violence; I knew it wasn’t good, but it was also nothing new. Between the Newtown shootings, the Steubenville rapists and everything else that has happened recently, I felt numb. I was concerned about the family and friends I had in the city but quickly discovered they were OK, albeit shaken up.

Those close to me would come up concerned, inquiring about my cousin and her fiancée, and it seemed unnecessary; it was another disruption in a very busy day. The gesture was nice, but had something happened, I would not have been so composed. This feeling of emotional distance only worsened as dubious information flooded in about this disastrous. Unless reports came from an actual news source, I ignored it.

It wasn’t until Friday morning, when I found out that the city was on lockdown, when my attitude began to change. I no longer felt bogged down by a mass of misinformation and routine violence that has plagued our news channels for so long. This was real, and action was being taken. Although I began to grow nervous about the fact that these suspects were free and dangerous, I felt reassured that there couldn’t have been a more responsive city for this to happen to. Boston’s been through a lot in its history; it’s tough, and citizens, first responders, volunteers and strangers reacted well.

Later that night, one of the suspects was killed, but the other was still on the loose. I felt helpless. I, like millions of Americans, could do nothing other than wait and see.

On Friday night, the second suspect was found and taken into police custody, and the words “we got him” resounded throughout the country. Everyone was saying how proud he or she is to be an American, how proud they are of Boston. I am too, and Boston gives me hope. While there is the question of whether or not there are others involved, we should rejoice in the fact that the two initial victims were brought to justice. I am not overlooking the heartbreak from the effect of those dead or injured, but I am surely thankful that there were not any more. The bad guys have been caught and, for now, Boston can rest.

Someone on Facebook posted their frustration with people who are only respectful of the National Anthem at a baseball game when it’s after a tragedy, and while I agree, this time I understand. In general, I don’t think people have enough reverence toward our country. No one’s perfect. At times such as this I’m thankful that we have a country capable of reminding us all that we have to be grateful for.