I breathe better in Tel Aviv. It’s a difficult reality to accept, especially when my comparison point is paradise. I can breathe and I can run and I can be on my kibbutz, an Eden, but it isn’t the same as Tel Aviv.
I went to Tel Aviv for the first time since the virus hit Israel, and as I neared the city I couldn’t stop smiling. I was home, at last.
The construction, the skyscrapers, the bus routes, the beach, getting dropped off somewhere and instinctively knowing how somewhere connects to the everywhere. It’s comforting and it’s familiar. It’s where I can breathe.
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