it seems like the other day i was walking up arlozorov late in the evening time to change and then head back to the hospital. or, like on most days, walk back to the apartment in the morning time after spending the night with you. seems like yesterday. seems like yesterday that I would walk into the hospital room, but before i did, i'd peek through the little crack between the doorframe and the "black out" curtain. most times you wouldn't see me doing this, but when you did, and i caught your eye, it made me so happy. and when i caught your eye, i smiled at you. i smiled at you big. big. it was like a regular routine. and since i didn't have much of a routine (I was aimlessly hanging in Israel), you gave me a routine. the best kind of routine. one that involved spending my time with you, walking tel aviv/ going on adventures, and then coming back, spending time with you and sharing my stories. you loved them all. you were eager to hear them. I was eager to share them.

when i was away from the hospital, I was either at the beach, or at the vintage market or just wandering the streets--sitting at a cafe writing--refueling my energy. Refueling so that I could be strong for you. You were so strong. So strong. I remember I use to say that you and my mother are the strongest people i know and you both always had something special because of that--you forever will. my mother cherished you. I cherished you. your parents and sister cherished you. your grandparents. your boyfriend cherished you. your friends cherished you. everyone and their neighbors and strangers cherished you. the list is endless. the doctors at ichilov cherished you.

somehow, writing, is helping. i think it's helped through this process. for everyone. for all of us. I can feel that you are reading this in some way. So i want to keep writing. maybe you are really reading this. maybe you aren't. i'll believe that you do. and write. write for you.