Here's my ride home. New York to Tel Aviv. No matter how messed up your destination is, it is always sweet.
My five year old daughter has a fever. She always gets a fever before I arrive. She's so affected by the separation. And who am I to think that I am not. I am completely affected.
As I flew up from Austin, I did some meditation to manage to the anxiety. Suddenly I remembered the shoes that I had bought for her, then I had the image of sitting on my suitcase before opening it, asking her to look me in the eye and telling her how much I missed her and I love her. A few tears fell. She has made my life so tough. She's such a sensitive soul, a lot like me. And since I don't manage my own sensitivity, I definitely don't manage her's.
I went to an amazing sushi restaurant on Thursday. Incredible ambiance. Amazing food. Really nice people. If you are ever in Austin, this is the finest of restaurants:
I sat at the bar. Had a few easy conversations with the neighbors, received a few music-bar recommendations. Things were flowing as they would say.
I found myself sitting in a bar, alone. The music wasn't that great - I should have gone with the Jazz recommendation instead of the blues. But there were a few songs to strum the heart's cords. And that's where I felt the tears. There's no woman in this bar giving me any attention. There is no woman in all my life running after me. All the way back to Broome, there's no girl that wanted me.
There is nothing like receiving someone's affection, someone's attention. A boy without loving grows up to be a man longing for attention. I have everything I could ever want, but when I find myself alone in a town, I drown in the loneliness of my child craving for some love.
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