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Besides going through all the tension and fighting inherent in the college application and waiting process, all parties are preparing to separate. In the movie version of this conversation, I would wail, You left me! By Ruth Ebenstein Stroll into the offices of Kids4Peace in the Sheikh Jarah neighborhood of East Jerusalem during a youth meeting and call out the name “Omri! “With the same name, how could we not,” quips Omri Massarwe. They met at Kids4Peace, a grassroots interfaith youth movement dedicated to ending conflict and inspiring hope in Jerusalem and other cities around the world.

It causes the kid to lash out, a psychological defense termed If I Hate You, I Can’t Miss You. Here’s what two teens discovered through becoming friends with kids from the other side of the Israeli-Palestinian divide.

She and my father escorted me to campus, which was the right thing to do, and she sat on my dorm bed with tears in her eyes while I unpacked. And I was ready for her to grow up but not for the relationship to end. In the experience that was my life, this juncture was where the mother-daughter relationship dead-ended. We may forget the pain of childbirth, but I doubt any of us forgets the agony of sleep deprivation. I expected memories during the week before I sent my daughter out into the world. It was like the drive home from the hospital the day after she was born. 16) I did the dorm scene farewell right, waiting until she told us to leave, watching from the parking lot while she hobbled away to start her life. Her room was so empty, all its surfaces flat and hard without her mess adding texture. My daughter and I settled into a long-distance relationship.

But as soon as my rainbow-striped comforter was laid upon the bed, they left. She refused to visit for Parents Weekend or to pick me up at the end of freshman year. The thickness of head, the numbness of mind – it all returned, only worse because I was so unaccustomed to functioning without sleep. The house was too quiet, too big, too full of testosterone now that I was outnumbered by a three to one penis/vagina ratio: boy child, boy husband, boy dog. My ear hurt when I breathed, as if something sharp was rolling through an empty tunnel. Or were those backaches and psychic pains her body’s way of telling her to feel the loss, their continuation a symptom of her refusal to do so? During her second winter break at home, we went for an entire month without a fight.

In Camelot, it's easy to forget what's coming, even if it's only for a little while.

Among family and friends, broken bodies can heal, shattered hearts can mend, and betrayals stop hurting, becoming a dull ache that allows others to trust again.

I heard the phone slide onto the street as I rode out of the driveway and even wondered about the sound before pedaling on, indicating that I had also lost the ability to recognize losing something. And I’ll certainly never recover a certain slice of my identity. We marched to the top of the Empire State Building. The part I left out was that I wasn’t feeling anything. My son had slept at a friend’s house an hour away on the night of the toe smash. She leaned toward me instead of away for the first time in many years.

We developed strong friendships and a foundation of trust. Last July, Omri and I joined a delegation of Palestinian, Israeli and American teens that participated in the Global Institute, an advocacy and social action program in Washington, D. We met politicians like Senator Tim Kaine of Virginia, advocated for a bill in Congress, went to the State Department, and shared our stories with public figures.I’m an anomaly because I live near Kfar Saba, some 50 miles northwest of Jerusalem.I commute 90 minutes each way to participate in the activities whereas all of the other participants live in or around Jerusalem. Our group comprised Jewish Israelis and Muslim and Christian Palestinians.The parents go gooey at every occasion: the last Halloween at home, the last birthday, the last teacher’s night at school, bittersweet even if you always loathed those nights. 4) My mother and I never fought when I was growing up. Omri Hochfeld, 16, Salit, Israel Why did you join Kids4Peace? She was bloody and shaking and on her way to the emergency room. I’d been tightening my abdominals like Houdini since her birth. Houdini died, they say, because he’d been ruined inside by one of those punches. My parents didn’t realize the seriousness of the injury so they tended to it mostly with kisses.

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