Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Fractions

Tidbits of petals.

Last week I was at Avital's midrasha Thursday night till Friday. First of all, Thursday night in itself is always a freer night than the others, with the knowledge that Friday is a day off, leading into peaceful Shabbat. Aside from that, Alonei Shilo is beautiful. In sight and in smell.
Smell smell smell of something so fresh and earthly. Reminded me of something, i didn't know what, but when i thought about it I thought probably Chashmonaim. A smell I haven't smelled in so long, but also fresh.
Fresh doesn't mean scentless. It does have a scent! The smell of cold live mountains.
Shabbat Gilad was home. We were here in our apartment and it was wonderful! We even played Rummy Cube which is something I don't usually like to do, but I guess it indicates that I was really content enough to do something that's checked off on my list as a relaxing time-passer.
I really felt his presence. We shared ourselves, which is the funnest thing a human can do- share himself with another human being. Not be alone in whatever he carries in his brain.
Now I'm here, sitting here after doing some things that seemed important and necessary so I feel like I DID something, and yesterday, too, even though most of the time I sat and read and wrote. But then I got up and decided- RIGHT NOW I'm going to do that thing I need to do, because I felt useless. I needed to do something but didn't, it was a loop. The more I sat the more wasted I felt. So sometimes it happens that I just jump up and say- that's it, I'm gonna do it now. I love those times.
We just got a radiator from the army by surprise!!
I was at the kaba"n.
He says artists magnify or exentuate emotions that other people don't, so all their (my) emotions are more radical. That's it.
But maybe I can make it be radical on a happier scale.
He said, wow, it's hard to write such personal things (when I wrote something about how I feel). That seemed untrue. It's not hard at all, I told him. I write this kind of stuff all the time on my blog and the whole world can see that. I said, for me there's something artistic about writing what I feel, it's like writing in the name of Art. It's a virtue.
And that made me see the things objectively. Wow, I really write my whole inside out on my blog (well not my WHOLE inside, but a lot of things), I think that's lovely.

Now I'm debating whether to eat ravioli and continue my unhealthy diet of today (when I eat too many oily unhealthy foods I feel icky inside) or go out and buy ingredients for a salad, even though it's cold.
My birthday was fun. It stretched out for a while, and it's actually not even over yet! I'm enjoying it.
The funnest was when Imma and Dena came over and brought Pizza Hut and the most delicious blueberry cheesecake~

Monday, January 17, 2011

I want to again try to define how it feels:

I can take my fears and sadnesses and package them up and they melt away in the presence of Gilad.
Not complete.
Someone who is protecting me, wrapping me up in a shield of warmth.
Closer.
There is a place outside of my own self where my nauseating thoughts and fears can go to.
Closer.
There is a place outside of me, a living being, who can take my fears from me, take them away from me, after they've been sunken into me, and me alone, for my whole life.
Something like that.
There is someone, a living being, outside of my own self, who can soak with my thoughts together with me, so I won't need to do it alone.
I think so.
Someone, from the opposite sex (which means he has strengths that are different from mine, he has qualities different from me which attracts me), someone older than me, and stronger both physically and mentally, who can share my scary mind with me, who can let the thoughts soak between us, and let me have some of his thoughts, so that everything melts together into something serene and okay (okay, as in not frustrating).
That's good, that's true.
It's like laying my scary mind onto a platter of soft yummy cake, and knowing that that's the place for it.
Right!
Being able to know that the right place for my mind is a sweet place.

pending his return

I was on a bus back to Jerusalem on Mota"sh, after a relaxing and warm Shabbat in Beit Shemesh, knowing that tomorrow I'm starting another week of army service.

I love buses, the busride itself. I don't want the ride to end, especially when I'm going somewhere i don't feel like going, or if it's cold out and I don't want to have to get out of the seat and stand out in the cold, or have to walk somewhere alone in the cold at night.
I just want it to last hours. To sit and peer out the window, or listen to music, or fall asleep, or imagine happy things, and be allowed to not have to do anything, for this certain amount of time. I have no army obligations on a bus, it's just me, on a bus. And I can relax.

i imagined, on Motsa"sh, that I was riding somewhere far, and that on the other end, a warm house was waiting for me, or a warm car that would drive me to that house, and a warm person who was waiting for me. A warm, happy person who had nothing to do with the army.
Sort of like flying on a plane, and having Nana Leila and Pop pop be there on the other end, waiting for me. And all they want is what's good for me. No army, no anything like that.
Like landing in Psagot and getting into the Goldstein's warm house, to Gilad.
Like driving home to Beit Shemesh, having smiles greet me.
Like going to somewhere, to someones that love me. To a place that is free. To a place that encourages personal happiness and care for each other. is it a lot to ask for that my whole life?
I think it's fair, to expect to have that every day as long as I live.

The army is the opposite, as the Kaba"n says.
It's strict, it isn't personal or loving. It's purpose is Discipline, is reaching a certain goal, or being a small ant in a huge colony of olive green robots, in order to fill a specific place in the big story, and not just for the sake of being Me. I'm not Me, I'm a Mashaki"t Hora'a, and that's my purpose there. And in real life, I'm Miriam, and I'm allowed to do whatever I want, and if I want to paint now I can paint and if I want to run I can run, if I want to be something else, I can be something else, if I want a hug I can just get a hug, I can say, 'Gilad, can you give me a hug?" And he'll stop in the middle of whatever he's doing and say "בטח, מתוקה" (or sometimes "בטח, פיה שלי""of course, my fairy!") and he'll come over and hug me hug me hug me so that I can feel him, feel his love and admiration, and his desire to do good and to be close. And the army swallowed Gilad up so that I can't get a hug whenever I want (more correctly- I can Hardly Ever be hugged- just for a few days every 3 weeks). because they took us to fill a certain gap, to fill a duty. And that task that I'm doing, it doesn't matter if it's Miriam or Sara or Shmoolik or Banana, as long as the work gets done, and that's also what's so different from the real world- where people want me because I'm Me.

He said, there's not much to do about that, that I'm so opposite from the world of Army. I'll just have to keep surviving until it's over. I said I want him to help me cope with it, he said there's no magic, it'll keep on being hard until the end.

Sometimes it's not hard, and sometimes I feel like maybe I'm just so used to it being hard that I'm "making" it hard. In any case, I'm so deep in this sea of despair, that whether or not I'm making myself sad, or if I'm really sad, I need to get out of it, and start again.
Maybe every once in a while you need to recognize the shit you've deeply sunken into and muster you're way out, and start a new page in your life.
Maybe it's cycles like that all throughout life.

But what will always always stay will be Gilad.
When I decide to change or to do something crazy, Gilad will always be there. And that's the one thing in life that must never change, never terminate. We must always grow and learn together and be happy with each other, even if one day that'll get hard (I can't see that happening, but it's what experienced people say).
It's the one certainty that should be mended into my arteries, into my soul.
The one warmth that will continue to warm.
A sun that will never set.
A love that will never cease.
I know it's not good to just sit here and listen to music and not do anything important for the world or for myself, but I feel like I can't get up and do anything, when I'm alone here. Sometimes (like yesterday), I'm happy and have energy to even go OUT. Now I've been sitting on the bed for about two hours, listening to pretty music on grooveshark and typing up a story I'm writing, and feeling that this is how I am surviving now until this lonely time is over.
I feel like even to sit here and do nothing is hard, so it's fine, for now.
I don't know if I should force myself to do things, to hold a paintbrush and paint, to get up and clean up, to look for lost things, like my engagement ring (it's in a box, not loose, if someone's reading this and thinking- how will I possibly find a single ring), to develop photos.
I can't seem to get myself to get up, in simple words that's just what it is.
Some mornings I seriously feel like maybe I'll be sitting in bed for an hour because i physically can't get up and out of bed. It's like I'm StUcK. Seriously. Weird.
I'm a lazy person, I think.

I wish I could go to sleep every night with the security of my king laying next to me, and waking up every morning to his smiling, sweet face. To his pure, soft body. To his loving heart. To his warmth.

Since i got home three hours ago I haven't done anything important but i will go shower in a few minutes, which I haven't done in a while...

I'm happier than other days.
Exactly four more months!!!!!!!!!!! (OR LESS!!!!!) :)
And G is done in FIVE MONTHS!
It used to be eight, seven, six. Now it's "only" five.
Heck, it used to be two years ("How will we wait two years to get married???" We said, a few months after meeting each other, snuggled in his bed)
And then it was a little over a year (we got engaged)
And 10 months (we got married)
Now it's five. That's 150 days, right?
I think I can manage that.
After about 900 days of being in this, we have 150 left.

I love you!

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Today was a good, good day.
Finally.
After work at Beit Hachayal, I walked home (8 minutes), decided I would make mushroom lazagna (after an hour of deciding), went out and bought the ingredients, and now the smell of a delicious lasagna is filling the apartment from the oven, and I'm about to eat it.

Friday, January 14, 2011

I am with my bestfriend and he is with me
But I sit alone as his body hovers on another plantation in another connection of morsels and ground.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

הוא היה אמיץ שהוא היה מוכן לדעת
ושהוא הוציא את זה מהתא הנעול.
זה היה מתחת לשכבות של חום כשפנינו קרובות כמו שני ראשים עם אותה נשימה
אותם ורידים מתאהבים ומתקרבים בלאט
אותן נשיפות אל תוך פנים תאומות אחת מול השניה
הוא דיבר וקולו נמתק באור העורקים של צווארי
היה חם ומרגיע
לשמוע
ולבכות.
כי הוא היה
וכבר עוד רגע הוא איננו
והמילים האלה חשובות ונמתחות ממני
וצריך לעכל אותם ביחד אבל הוא
והגוף שלו
נעלמו לי
הם אינם פה
הם במקום רחוק, ואני כאן. בין קירות ודברים דוממים,
שירים.
מילים.
ומה שסיפרתי לו, לא יכול להתרחב ולהיבנות פה
ולתת לאהבה לגדול--
הכל נמתח, כל הדברים הדקים האלה
נמתחים עד כדי קוים דקיקים אף יותר,
כמעט אינם.
הרוח והשלווה והלב והתקרה. כולם פה ושם ובכל מקום
ואני פה.
לבד.
כמעט.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

He's leaving again, it tears the artories of coverage and warmth and makes me alone and fearful.
It never ends; he always comes and then goes again, I always know it, it never ends.

Friday, January 07, 2011

If I get really really close to Gilad when he's talking, if my head is in his neck and my ear can feel the vibrations of his speaking, I feel like his voice is coming out of both of us, like I'm speaking together with him.

Wednesday, January 05, 2011

היום חשבתי על איך שמקומות שונים יכולים ליצור חוויות חדשות לגמרי. אתה יכול פתאום להרגיש משהו שבחיים לא הרגשת
ואז אתה מגלה שאם רק תמשיך למצוא את עצמך במקומות חדשים הלב ימשיך לצבור תופעות חדשות ונעימות
היום הייתי בבקעה והרחתי שוב את הריח שהכרתי למשך שנה שלמה
לא היה לזה אפילו ריח
אבל זה הרגיש כמו האויר בארגמן
ונשפתי אותו עד שהרגשתי לרגע שאני מסוממת והרגשתי במצב עילאי ושליו, כל דבר שחשבתי עליו היה נעים ומרגיע.
אבל אז יצאתי מזה ולא הצלחתי לחזור כי דאריה דיברה איתי.
נהייתי שמחה שם בבא"ח כפיר.
בערב הראשון הראיתי לדאריה תמונות מהחתונה ואז הייתי שמחה ומאז אני שמחה, ואני בעזרת ה' אשאר שמחה עד סוף השירות!
למרות שאני כבר מרגישה דעיכה, אבל אסור לזה לקבל ממני תעוצה!
הכל בסדר.
אתם לא מבינים
פשוט התחלתי להיות שמחה
שמחה שמחה שמחה!!!

Saturday, January 01, 2011

אני צריכה עזרה!
אני צריכה שמחה ואני צריכה את גילעד ואני צריכה להיות חופשיה ולא להיות בצבא