The End

The Israeli has left for now, and Monday was probably the most emotionally draining day I have spent in many years. So many rounds of crying, I surprised even myself.

The day did not start well. I was irritated with him because he sent me a text message on Monday morning at 5am saying that he just finished packing, was going to sleep for a few hours, and would call me at 1 to make plans for the day. I knew that if he only slept for 3 hours or so, he would be exhausted all day, and not fun to be around. So I sent him a text message back around 9ish saying that I was going to the gym and for him to call me when he was up, but if he was going to be tired like he was on Saturday, I'd rather not. I don't know what I was expecting him to say or do really, but he called me at 1, and said he was running some errands and then he was going to go back to his apartment and we'd get together at 6. Oh no. I did not put aside my whole memorial day to wait until 6 to see him. We got into our first and only argument because I made it clear that I was not happy with that situation. He retaliated with the fact that I had told him that I didn't want to see him if he was tired, and he was going to take a nap so he wouldn't be. I can't really blame him, but in the moment I was angry, and I made some comment about why does he care anyway if I gave up my day for him - he's still leaving the next day regardless. He got really angry when I said that, and said that if I honestly thought he didn't care about me or my plans, then it was nice knowing me, and that's that. I thought he was actually going to hang up on me, but he didn't... and we worked through the issue, and I wound up going over there at 6.

I was unprepared for how emotional I was going to get when I got there. I teared up immediately, and did not set a very good mood initially for the evening. We laid in bed for a while, just talking, and me being weepy and ridiculous. At one point, the Israeli asked me if I really didn't know how much he cared about me. I said that I knew he cared about being intimate with me, but how much he cared... no I don't actually KNOW that he cares about me. Then, he got really upset, and teary and said that it really hurt him that I didn't know that he cared, and if he was only interested in sex do I think he would've done so much just for sex. To be perfectly honest, I don't know. And I wasn't trying to hurt him by saying that, but he kept me pretty separate from the rest of his life here in Brooklyn - which to me doesn't show that he cares very much. When I care about someone, I want them to be as involved in my life as possible. He says that he always invited me out and I always said no, but I only remember saying no once or twice because I actually had other things I had to do. After about 2 hours of teary and emotionally draining conversations (in which the Israeli told me if we both were still single when we were 30, we should get married... 30 is only 3 years and a few months away for me, I'm not in any rush to be married by the time I'm 30, or even at all - at least not the Israeli.)

We went to dinner at a really interesting restaurant in Park Slope, which I had been set on going to. It's an Oaxacan restaurant called Chilies and Chocolate, which serves Mexican style dishes with chocolate and chillies infused into their dishes (so surprising based on the name, isn't it.) We got there at 8:30, and the place looked empty. Maybe 3 or 4 couples eating there, and about 6 open tables. I was surprised when they told us it would be a 20 minute wait because it was literally empty. But the hostess was gracious enough to explain that the restaurant had been slammed with business all day, and the kitchen really needed a break. She also informed us that it is a BYOB restaurant (another huge plus for this place) and pointed us in the right direction of the 7th Ave Wine & Liquor Co. It was a great night, so we walked down to the shop, bought a bottle of wine (and the Israeli bought me a bottle of wine because I saw one there that I thought looked cool - yes I judge my wine based on the bottle), and sat outside the restaurant for the 20 mins until our table was ready. During that time, the Israeli got a phone call from a friend who he had made plans with for dinner already. I had not been happy about this in the beginning, it was supposed to be OUR night, and had voiced that during the argument we had earlier. He had said that he didn't mind cancelling plans with her, and I thought he had done so. He apparently couldn't get in touch with her because she had lost her phone, blah blah blah, and puts me on the spot by asking me while she's on the phone if I mind if she joins us for dinner. Now I know how my mom felt when I used to ask her if friends could eat dinner over or stay over in front of them... I of course said I didn't mind, and honestly at that point it wasn't such a big deal. We went back to the restaurant, and since our party had changed from 2 to 3, we were sat in the back tent, which had a great ambiance. The Israeli went on a bit of an ordering spree, saying he wanted to try it all, so 2 appetizers (one that was supposed to include fried grasshoppers, but apparently they had run out... it was good anyway.) and 2 entrees, and a dessert later... we had a large dinner (which, despite the name, you don't really taste the chocolate as you would expect to, it's not sweetened, so it's really just a smooth flavor that cuts the spiciness down a bit). His friend showed up not long after we ordered, and he introduced me as his girlfriend. Actually this is exactly how he introduced me... "This is my girlfriend, E, who I am leaving." What? His friend actually had such a hard time understanding my name because there was so many other words around it. I looked at him and said, "Really, this is E, would have been sufficient." And then had to introduce myself to the girl anyway, on top of all of that. Dinner was fine, I had a no Hebrew or Russian speaking rule (since both the Israeli and his friend are fluent in both), and I think that hindered the conversation a bit, because while they both speak English well enough, I'm sure there is no way they would have spoken it if I weren't there.

We were at dinner until 10:30, at which point we had to go back to the Israeli's apartment. His boss was coming to pick up his boxes so they could be shipped back to Israel, and he really hadn't finished packing. His boss didn't show up until 11:15 or so, and I was getting nervous because I knew I had to work the next day, and didn't know how I would do that on no sleep. His boss and the Israel took the boxes over to the office and I stayed back to take a nap. The Israeli woke me up about 2 hours later, when he had really finished packing, and all the stuff had been moved out to where it needed to go. Eventually, we got back to my apartment at 2am, and promptly went to bed. I wasn't very tired because I had just taken a 2 hour nap, and had fully woken up from it... so we didn't actually go to sleep until around 4. In that time, there was another round of tears and me getting really upset knowing that in a few hours, he would be gone. We slept from 4 - 5, and then we had to get up so he could leave by 5:30 to make it to the airport on time. The day before (with all my extra free time) I had packed him a breakfast of fruits, cheese, and a variety of nuts for him to bring with him on the plane. I also bought him Brooklyn Follies by Paul Auster, since after we read Oracle Night, Auster will always remind me of him. I walked him outside (because nothing is more irritating then saying goodbye with the awful buzzer on my door - and he had his backpack in my car anyway.) I gave him the book and the breakfast, and we said goodbye. It was less painful and sad than I thought, I was also extremely tired and couldn't wait to get back to sleep for one more hour (making a total of 4 for the night).

Before leaving for school that morning, I checked my phone and saw I had 2 missed calls from the Israeli while I was in the shower. I called him back, and thankfully got him right before he got on the plane. He called to thank me for everything, and he said he'd call me while he was in California. If he does, that's fine, but I'm pretty sure this story is over. They were 4 good months, and I'm surprised I was as upset as I was, because I rarely have ever cried over a guy. I'll miss him for sure, and I'm in my own home stretch in the city. I have just about 3 months exactly left here, and I'm getting sad about moving.

I have no dates planned any time soon. I do have some interviews scheduled for jobs next year, and my first of two summer courses for grad school started yesterday. So that will keep me busy (yet uninteresting) for the time being. It's not the end of the blog, I'm sure, but for now there might be a lack in material.