MemberJuly 3, 2020 at 5:37 pm
I didn’t do it; it just happened to me. I sort of felt like an outsider watching myself go through the torture of it.
And for 12 hours on the plane, I wrote. That was what kept me sane. Even though I was squashed between two fellow sem-mates (and I was trying hard not to breathe cuz none of us had masks). And every five seconds I was purelling my tray and my armrests and the rest of the seat. But I wrote and I wrote and I wrote until we landed and they announced “Welcome to the United States of America!” And not one person cheered. We just sobbed. The plane was heaving.
And it’s funny and sad how on Purim I was saying “I can’t believe there are only three more months!” And then I watched girls in a different seminary (which closed before mine) leaving the Kosel for the last time, and my heart broke for them, and I said (all smugly) “Baruch Hashem, I have until June!”, but I was already worrying about how I would handle that infamous day in June. And then the next time I was there it was the last, and there was yellow caution tape marking off sections of ten people in each. And there were male police officers patrolling the women’s section. And I was not allowed to touch the wall.
(Sorry for that; I needed to vent)