This won’t count as my normal post, but instead as an extra bonus post in between my horribly spaced out and hopefully semi interesting posts.
A lot has happened in the past week and I won’t dwell on any of them too much. It is not, however, because I am not thinking about each item constantly when I should be studying for midterms. It is not because they do not slightly terrify me, or because I don’t actually care. It is because they are worthy of stating ‘out loud.’
Perhaps the first part should be the rockets that fell on southern Israel a bit over a week ago. Schools all over southern Israel were shut down for days because the alarm went off so often that many students simply lived out of the bomb shelter. The students who actually live in Israel take this much better than those who are studying abroad. Perhaps that’s to be expected, but for some reason it seems to escape people’s mind that it should come as extremely depressing that that is the case.
Secondly, having absolutely no information about a friend in danger is an excruciatingly irritating situation. It has been months since I have heard about my person, regardless of the multiple people from whom I have asked for information. No one will tell me anything. Even the people reassuring me that they will investigate and let me know. You have failed me.
Thirdly, midterms are hard. They are by no means any easier abroad. Back home most people back off during midterms week, and try to make sure you are not any more stressed than you already are. Apparently that concept is completely lost on people as soon as the student decides to study abroad. You’re right. The process spontaneously becomes infinitely easier once you’ve taken me to a completely different situation, totally different school system, ensured that I cannot get to a library after 5 in the evening, and dropped me with new people with whom I’m not nearly as comfortable. I just needed reminding I guess.
Lastly, I recently found out about another old friend that has been sick. While they are undoubtedly on the road to recovery, their life will never again be the same. This person has had it rough from the beginning, and I cannot imagine going through not only their childhood, and now this. Every question that has run through my mind was silenced by the thundering: “Will they ever actually recover from this?” And it makes my soul weep because I don’t believe it is possible. And I don’t think it’s an individual thing- I literally don’t think this person will ever fully recover from this. They will forever have some part of this within them that will nag at them until their last breath. The torture that cannot be touched, moved, or corrected. These people that you thought you knew, the signs you thought for sure you would be able to catch, it all means nothing at times like these when we’re brought to our knees to pray for something good, something right, something justified, and yet something merciful.
There are about seventy-four other pinches in my mind at the moment, but perhaps four is enough for now. Now being 2:20 in the morning, about to write the conclusion on the last of my three essays for a single class’s midterm. I wasn’t lying. Study abroad midterms are no better than study-in-my-dorm (or the library if I G-d forbid want to)-at-my-in-state-school midterms. In fact I’m currently debating if they’re worse…
