Florentin, I found you.
Through your sand storms, incredible sunsets, torrential downpour, and your crazy, stinky, loud, warm, dog-loving residents, I found you.
I also started to find myself, Eyal the sexy pizza man, another bridesmaid, a love for cold coffee, an obsession with cafeing, a balcony that felt like home, a view of the sea and the many military helicopters in the sky, a parking spot for all of the cars we rented, shawarma pitas comparable to the love of my life, cookies from a grocery store I’ll never forget, and days with the sun and nights with bottles of wine where I found the people who helped me find myself.
Five months ago I wrote a letter to February 7th me hoping I made it through the suckiest adjustment period of my life. The letter vulnerably said that the next time I would see these words, whether the last five months were just another experience, or the adventure I thought it would be, it was time to go home to my people.
That letter has been opened, a necessary third suitcase has been purchased, and the burning ball in my throat filled with tears is every confirmation I needed that these last five months were the time of my life.
Until we meet again Floretnin…