Life was never ment to be an easy thing. Living is not a concept or a theory or even an idea. It's something that many people feel like it should be a choice, living is not an option, it's a commandment.
There are so many people here who don't want to live for some reason or another. I'm finding it harder and harder to be simpathetic for some people, I'm finding that the people who I originally hang out with, aren't the people I'm drawn to.
The way my heart feels now is hard, I'm tired no matter how much I sleep, I'm upset and angry with anyone who've gotten close to me, or trying to be all that even if they're not. I'm not sure what I want anymore, trying to guide myself is a lot harder than I thought.
I like my roomates but, I also am not close with them. I long for the friends I can spill my guts to and just cry to. I need to cry but it won't come out. I'm scared, upset, I'm happy and overjoyed.
I love everything about this country everything about this land, I'm learning so much and benefiting from it. I'm happy with the "friends" I've made, but I want my Mommy, I want her here when I'm not feeling well, when I'm tired and can't get to sleep. I want her here when I lead services, or when I read Torah. I want my family, I want my security blanket. I want to cry and let it all out, the pain, the joy, the fears, the loss and the sorrow. I want to know why I'm really here, and I want to just be done. Just like our ancestors travled so many miles to find the promised land, I'm traveling thousands of miles to find myself.
I try to figure out who I am, I'm a 17 year old girl, trying to find my way through a dark wet tunnel. The tunnel is filled with sharp rocks, animals, other people trying to find their way as well, and no light to guide us. Some of us speak the same language while other's speak languages I don't know. I try to climb over or around them, somtimes it's a full out brawl, other times it's just an exchange or words. Sometimes they're kind enough to tell me about something on the way.
My hands are dirty and have cuts, my knees are bloody, the scars tell the story of the battles I've been through. Some are deeper than other's, some are just scratches. I can't see where I'm going, there's no light, but I keep looking.
I hope to one day see what my face looks like, I can't wait to be with the people who are like me. I can't wait till I find me, so until then I crawl through this hole, holding back my tears, keeping my guard up, and praying that I get there soon.
