It is midnight or well afterwards again and I am back in my hotel room. My time in Jerusalem has lit another fire inside my head and heart. There is a different rhythm on the streets here and the smells are foreign and familiar.
Outside my room I can hear people talking in some language that I can’t understand nor can I recognize it. I love that about this place. I speak more than one language and am well familiar with many more but I still don’t recognize the origin of the words that I hear.
Israel is a crossroads and a nexus of time, people and places. It is where so many of the major moments of my life have taken place and there will be more to come. There is something different about being here and I am not the only who senses, feels, touches or tastes it. It is part of why so many have tried to claim the land as their own.
That feeling is part of why I find it harder to sleep here. It is not because I have insomnia or am unable to sleep, far from it. I am famous for being able to sleep any where, in any position and at any time.
No the reason I can’t sleep is because I know that this is a short trip and I don’t want to miss a moment. I want to cram as much as I can and savor each minute of every day. When I leave my heart will break again and my soul will cry.
That is not melodrama or hyperbole. It is a simple and accurate description of what I feel. It doesn’t mean that I can’t function without or apart because I have done it and I will do it again.
We figure out how to create a space from the part, the place and the people we miss. We learn how to operate without them or we retreat into a fantasy world or catatonic state that provides a refuge from the pain.
Space is what I created, one of my own. Way back when we split up and I wondered if I would ever learn how to love and live like that again I did what I had to do- I created space. I worked hard to figure out how to do it and I got it done.
But time and space have worked with Jerusalem to remind me of what was. And now I am more determined than ever to try to find out if the memories have been made stronger, better and larger than what was.
Won’t lie and say that I haven’t wondered if I have fooled myself into thinking that there was less to her and to I than I think of. My heart says otherwise. My heart says that it was everything and more.
My time here in Israel has been good for many things. Harold says that my writing is more inspired than he has seen in a long while and that he hopes all of my future works burns as brightly. I am happy to hear it but I am less happy that he still thinks we need to speak each day, or should I say each night. Each night is when he calls and every time I answer he tells me how tired he is.
Last night I told Harold that I would wire him a $100 to use as he pleases. He asked me why and I said that I hoped he would drive south, cross the border and find some nice hooker to occupy him. Ok, I used much cruder words than that but at the moment my heart feels so light I choose not to be so…graphic.
Outside the stars are bright, the night air is warm and I know that there are places to go be. The city isn’t quite asleep yet and my desire to soak up the moments is pushing me to leave my room and go off in search of fun. But I also know that if I don’t force myself to catch more than a few hours of shut eye I am going to pay for it later and I don’t think I am ready or interested.
So I change into my usual sleeping attire of shorts and a t-shirt and climb into bed. Still can’t sleep so I turn on the television and find myself watching the tail end of The Blues Brothers.
Don’t mean to wax philosophical about the film but listening to them sing Everybody Needs Somebody To Love makes me smile. It feels like a sign and a message to me. Think I just might have to do something about that.