Tired

I am on a mini break in my home country. And suddenly, this whooz of tiredness falls over me. I Am Tired.

When I take a sip of water from the tap and do not have to check the color of the water to know if I will drink it today.

When I do not hear bangs all day and do not have to wonder if it is gun shots or fireworks I am hearing.

When I do not hear helicopters or sirens at least for an hour.

When I am not stung by mosquitos, not startled by stray cats or roaches for a day.

When I do not have to wonder if I will bother or offend people with my clothes, my behavior, my faith.

When it is not foolish to be a Christian, or a moslim, or a Jew, but it is just who you are.

When I can read what is written and understand what is said. When the script is Latin and the words gentle.

 

And when nobody tries to jump ahead of me in line. I notice how extremely tired I am from those four little months in Jerusalem, Israel. Where all I have known is different. And I can not judge it as being better. Yet.

I am exhausted of not having to try, for a few days, to like it.

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