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confessions of a depressed mind

המטרה היא פשוטה - לתאר את חיי, תוך הפיכת הבלוג, אני מקווה, לעצוב יותר ברשת.

כינוי:  amygdal

מין: זכר





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הבלוג חבר בטבעות:
 
11/2014

אולי אני אשלח את המכתב הזה


יותר סביר להניח שלא, אבל אני חייב לפרוק ומכיוון שאין לי כרגע ממש עם מי, אז ישראבלוג זה המקום. זה באנגלית בעיקר כי הבחורה לא כל כך יודעת לקרוא עברית וכך אני יכול לעשות קופי פייסט. ואם זה פתטי, לא נורא. גם ככה אף אחד פה לא ממש מכיר אותי ואני כותב פה פעם בשנתיים בערך.

 

Hi Keren,

 

I am actually very glad that I got to know you in these last 4 months or so. You are an amazing girl, you are a more fun and caring girl than most and your energy levels are second to no one. Even more than Rakeft, and god knows she's one feisty girl. So thank you for letting me into your life and for being almost always so genuine and great.

 

You might actually really hate me when you finish reading this message. I don't know. What I am doing here is probably unfair and might burden you a little, but I am leaving you with Rakefet, with David and with Asaf, and yes, also with Jean Paul. All (except the latter who I don't know), are great people and I am sure you will be okay.

I really hoped I could maintain this friendship with you, that was my initial purpose you know. Thinking it is all okay and that we can stay as we always were, really good friends, who confide in each other, embrace each other in need, play hard, work hard, and just have a whole lot of fun.

But I can't. You see... you know I haven't been sleeping very well in the last week or more, waking up at 4, night after night. What you don't know is that I wake up with one name on my lips - Keren, Keren, Keren. The next 3 hours, before getting up for work, are spent thinking about you. thinking about you and cursing myself for losing the one opportunity I had with you, one that will not come back.

 

You see, Keren, in the last week or so, I can't sleep, I can't breathe, I can hardly eat anything. These are all signs of depression (albeit, so far only one week, I am writing this so it would go away, I hope). You are a little naive Keren, you think it is because I stopped drinking, and yes, I am sure that's part of it. (In other words, I don't think that quitting just now was the wisest thing I could have done, but it is what it is). It really isn't though Keren, the reason I can't sleep is strictly, exclusively, because of you. You can pride yourself if you want, but it's true. It's not your fault the only thing I can think about is you, but it is.

 

It actually wasn't so bad, before I figured out what probably happened, piece by piece. and to be honest, we were never really dating, so I have no right passing any kind of judgment over you anyway. But Keren, you hurt me a lot. And you hurt me twice. I think that's the real shit here, the pain of knowking that I had you at the tip of my grasp and that I lost you. I think the best analogy to what I had with you, would be beach sand, all warm and white, dissappearing little by little, carried by the wind, as you hold it in your hand. You see, the sand really isn't much to start with, but it could stay. You could build a beach castle, you could turn it into glass, but not if you just let it drift away. We had nothing but I felt like we were going to have something. I was wrong.

 

The first time you hurt me wasn't so bad. You were drunk, you asked me to ask you on a date. I complied eagerly. One day later you told me your forgot the whole thing. You said that you're sorry and that you didn't mean it and that wer'e too good of friends to have anything together. I was devestated, but I lived through. 

But the second time, Keren, the second time was when it really really hurt. Right after coming back from Israel, you came to my home, we sat and talked. And you said that you do want to try, that I did it right when you were in trouble with your car accident, that maybe I am the right man for you. You made me promise you that if it does work, I will stay in Europe. I don't like Europe, but I like you more than I don't like the fucking continent. You told me that if it works out I should call Hodaya and tell her it's done. I like Hodaya, she is the only person I could talk to about this whole damn thing, but I agreed, I reached for my phone as you stopped me and said, not yet, let it work first.

 

That's all there was, but you gave me a second chance which was blown, into the wind, like the sand. Forever. Fuck.

 

I don't know all the bits and pieces that led you to tell me right at the beginning of our one and only formal date that you can't do this. I believe it's a combination of these though.

1. Somehow, I fucked up in Lyon. I don't know how or what, but I did something wrong. Something unsophisticated

2. You really do see me as too much of a friend and never a lover, this is personal

3. I am not just not boyfriend material, not for you, not for anyone. God knows my romantic history will support that notion fully.

4. The fucking Lyon rabbi who told you to never date a gentile, and you were so pissed off, that you went on and dated one.

5. You met Jean Paul, somewhere and sometime in between. You met Jean Paul. Charming enough to retract and say no, right away, never really meaning to say yes on that cursed Wednesday.

 

If I need to allocate percentages (you're a numbers girl, so am I. Let's do this). It would be something like

1 - 10%

2. 20%

3. 10%

4. 10%

5. 50%

 

And that sucks. Because why him and not me. Because, why is it that the one time I am so close to a real chance for happinness, I get dealt with the worse deck of cards. And can I never get what I want. Why couldn't you have met him a few weeks later, after we were together. Just why.

And Keren, let me tell you something. I wanted you physically since the day I laid eyes on you, during that first Thursday drink, and emotionally about 2 weeks later, when I actually got to know you. You have every positive attribute. You are really really nice, really really helpful, really caring, really interesting, really real, really everything. 

 

And what sucks even more is that we both live in a strange estranged land, and that you are in the core of my friendships. Almost everyone I know, I know because of you. David and Asaf and Rakefet, are close friends of both you and me, but when I am with them I am also with you, and being with you means for me that I can't sleep, can't breathe, can't forgive myself for missing the opportunity. I come home, crawl into bed, wallowing in tears of remorse, regret and loss. I have no energy, not at home, not at work, not anywhere. You saw it this week, it was so evident. I am never like this, and yet I could not be calmed down. The only thing that did calm me down was cooking and that beautiful shakshuka (glad you liked it, neshama).

 

I wish there was some kind of capacity in which we can both maintain these friendships without me not being able to sleep. I need those friendships here and I need you, but I can't have you and I can't be with the others and you. I can't be around you Keren, I am sorry.

 

I will walk away for three reasons.

1. You are way more energetic, lively and way more important to the group than I am.

2. I would never impose, suggest or imply that someone else do something. least of all you, if I am the one who can't deal, than I am the one who can't deal and I am the one who should suffer the consequences.

3.  I am really used to being lonely. It was great not being lonely for a while, but fuck it. I know how to master the art of loneliness after 35 years (minus a year and change). You volunteer a little, watch a lot of movies and TV shows, work a lot, tinder a little, wait for your next opportunity though these are scarce and far between but, you know, it is what it is.

 

I did not lie to you when we went on our one and only date, and told you I that I think that in a couple days I will be okay. That's what I really thought. I mean, sure, she just doesn't see me like that. But when I learned about Jean Claud, and assuming I fucked it up somewhere on the way, between us and Lyon or back, it just depressed me a lot more. To no end, really. And when I remembered that at least for a few days you really really thought to give this a real chance, depressed me even more, because I had you, I had you, and I lost you.

 

Maybe this will help me sleep. I  know I will be talking to Rakefet tomorrow, and I would really like to hear her opinions, but it's not so easy to talk to her.

You know who I would really have loved to talk about this, Keren? I would have loved having you as a neutral listener, something you're so good at, and telling you this, anticipating your hug. Telling me it's all okay, and that the girl in the story was just lost or found or that this elusive girl too, not only me, missed a wonderful man.

Except I can't and that end of the last paragraph is not even true. You hurt me but you are better than me, because you can maintain what we had and I, I tried, but I just can't.

 

With love, I have not choice but I need to sleep and breathe again,

Bye Keren,

נכתב על ידי amygdal , 7/11/2014 20:12  
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