The Longest Day of My Life.

The tension I feel inside is so powerful -- it's almost as strong as that night we lied helplessly in the snow, staring at each other with an intense, fixed gaze that held our contrasting desires to stay apart or let loose. Do you know that I care about you like I've never cared about anyone? Do you know that as much changing as I've done, as much as I've worked so hard to become a nicer, more giving person, I wonder if you'd be proud? Sometimes I wish so badly that we could be together so that I could show you how I've changed. I just wish I could give endlessly to you and take care of you and tell you that I love you and that I always will. I envision us cuddling, your head resting on my shoulder, and I tell you all these things as you look up into my eyes. And I softly stroke the side of your cheek and openly admit all these things with more love and sincerity than ever before. That's the scene that I picture in my head all the time.

I am just very lost. I'm sorry if you were upset when you heart I went on a date. And if you didn't care at all, that's okay too. It scares me to keep going on these dates because each date would mean falling farther and farther away from you. I don't want that to happen.

I'll readily admit that although seeing you is so hard, I secretly wish that you'll look at me and want to do something to change the situation so we can be together. It's an awful thing to say, and that's why I've never said it. I guess I still have a lot more to work on. Maybe Hashem allotted the things I wanted in stages; when I was younger, it was easier to acquire an afternoon at the pool, a snack, a new toy. In high school I had to work a little bit to get a good grade or buy some new clothes. In seminary I had to dig deep and fight to gain everything that I did. And maybe now Hashem is telling me that it's the end of the line; at some point, we can't have everything we want. And ultimately, the most desirable wants are the ones that are "saved for last." I can't, and won't, have you. And I've never had to bear this kind of situation, let alone all the emotions involved because its you.

I spent the whole day looking for you, hoping that maybe, at some point, we would meet. Whether it be in person, through a text . . . but no such luck. I give you so much credit for being able to tell yourself no because I clearly could not do the same. It's pathetic . . . I'm still in the kitchen hoping if I turn around I'll see you standing in the driveway or something, giving in to all your desires to want to just see me one last time. But I know that when I turn around that ridiculous fantasy will not be true, and it's so stupid of me to still be up late crying over this blog post when I have to wake up in 4 hours for my flight back to New York.  (I turned around; I was right.)

Honestly. . . I don't know. It's up to Hashem. I'm just expecting us to never be together again. I don't know how I'm going to handle this, I can't imagine how long it's going to take to get over what we had. I'm sorry for ruining the best thing I ever experienced with the most amazing person I've ever met.

Tear show begins.

Fading.

These new feelings may be fleeting, and although I don't want to speak to soon, I can't help it. For the first time in months and years, I am so excited to be trying something different. Today I woke up with a new vibrance and confidence that I've been missing for awhile. Life has presented a new reality for me, and b"h I'm embracing it :)

All those memories and fantasies that I wasted so much time dreaming seem to be fading away. I don't feel the same interest in dreaming anymore. I'm ready for more, and the daydreams will never give that to me. No longer will I scan the subways for what isn't there. No more listening to music with a heavy heart.
Hopefully this roller coaster ride won't fail me anytime soon. Because today I feel confident, and I hope tomorrow is the same. I rode the same ride for so long, I forgot the thrill of something new and unexpected.

Cheers to new opportunities ;)

Change.

One of the most challenging yet rewarding parts of life is change. Change is a beautiful thing . . . but it means deviating from our comfort zone, and I think that scares people.

Most of my friends can attest to the fact that I've changed a lot over the past few years. And while I'll openly acknowledge it, I've never able to really understand it from their perspective . . . until now. While I was cleaning out my room this week, I found my senior yearbook. Talk about flashback from the past! The nostalgia was incredible . . . and for the first time in three years I was able to look at those pictures and finally see the stark difference between who I used to be and who I've become.

It's pretty hard to explain personal changes. Most of my family and friends see my external changes or "religious changes," which makes sense because those have been some of the biggest changes in my life. But I'll never really be able to express to them the real changes that sparked everything -- feelings and wishes that I could only recognize deep, deep down. Many of the internal changes I've made were rooted in me since I was young; maybe back then I didn't foresee becoming frum as the "answer," but now that I've learned more and been exposed to different people and places, I realize that Judaism addresses and emphasizes so many of the things I wanted to change about myself.

I feel bad for people that are scared of change. Forget external or religious changes, just change in general. Developing new philosophies, beliefs, hobbies, routine, etc is a healthy, normal thing. Just like a child slowly evolves into an adult, and an adult into an elder, the crux of our existence relies on changing and evolving as people. There's so much potential in this world to do more, be more --  but none of that is possible if a person is unwilling to deviate from their comfort zone.

I don't regret the changes I've made because I feel like I'm accessing the potentials and opportunities that were meant for me. I hope I'm becoming a better person than I used to be . . . after all that's where all this change business sprouted from in the first place. For awhile I used to wallow in my sorrows for all the people, places, and experiences I've given up as a result of my changes, but I've realized that with every new chapter of life comes new people, places, and experiences which are meant to help us learn and grow into new people.

I look back at my old letters and pictures with such great memories; many of those people still have such a special place in my heart. And though we've all taken different paths, it's so amazing that through it all, we've accepted each other for our changes. I'm so thankful that the Ribbono Shel Olam allowed me to have friends that accept me for who I've become.