Tonight, I cried.
For the first time since this war began, tears streamed down my face.
I’ve always been the one pushing forward, ‘full steam ahead,’ not allowing myself to get bogged down in emotion. But tonight’s news broke me.
I am so angry. I am pissed as hell. I am like a volcano on the verge of eruption. I am full of hate. An emotion that I despise. An emotion that I work hard to never feel. But tonight I hate.
I hate Hamas.
I hate anyone who believes in Hamas.
I hate anyone who supports Hamas.
I hate Hamas for Oct 7th.
I hate Hamas for the death of all our soldiers.
I hate Hamas for putting us all in a position where we don’t know who to trust….or how to trust.
I hate Hamas every time I feel nervous when I see an Arab waiting for the bus. I hate Hamas for being too scared to open my front door to the supermarket delivery person, telling them to leave it all outside my door. I hate Hamas for tainting my ability to believe in humanity, and my desire to be all-loving.
But my deepest hatred is reserved for how Hamas has cornered us into tragedies where our soldiers, tasked with the protection of Israel, are left with a lifetime of guilt and trauma for having mistakenly killed three of our own.
This unbearable burden, a consequence of their actions, is the most unforgivable of all.
“We owe a responsibility not only to those who are in Israel but also to those generations that are no more, to those millions who have died within our lifetime, to Jews all over the world, and to generations of Jews to come. We hate war. We do not rejoice in victories. We rejoice when a new kind of cotton is grown, and when strawberries bloom in Israel.” Golda Meir (As quoted in As Good as Golda : The Warmth and Wisdom of Israel’s Prime Minister (1970) edited by Israel Shenker and Mary Shenker, p. 28)