Sometimes, you told me that you wanted to extend your time in the army and climb the ranks. When you finally left, you had periods of time where you hated yourself for leaving your fellow brothers to fight active wars while you slept in your own bed. Sometimes, you tell me that you don’t want to come home to America and you want to stay.

You left to serve in the IDF three and a half years ago, and I have seen you in person three times since then. Sometimes when we Skyped, you would be on duty at 2 a.m. on an 8-hour watch shift. You always had your gun next to you in case you needed it. You would be in different places, on different borders, in different situations.

For the last three and a half years, there hasn’t been a single day where I’m not reminded of you and think of you. Even with the world between us, you’re the best friend a girl could ever ask for. You don’t want to come home. So I told you today that I would be excited for the both of us until you could be excited for yourself.

Honestly, it’s because I’m selfish. Because even though you are fighting for freedom, for Jews to have a homeland, for peace, I want you back safe with me. I don’t want to read about Lone Soldier Americans being killed in warfare and have to avidly search the article, fighting to breathe because any day I could see your name. Lord only knows how your mom gets through each day with her three boys serving.

When a young American boy died while on a gap year in November on his way home from handing out food to soldiers, my Facebook page exploded. Not because American lives are more valued than others, but because people who I knew, knew him. With a shock wave of immediate sadness, I couldn’t help but imagine what my Facebook page would look like if anything ever happened to you. You always say we don’t know the half of it. That people die every day over there and it never hits American headlines. That may be true but seeing people I know lose someone to the stabbings, killings, fires, and terror that have consumed Israel makes me ever so thankful that soon you’ll be on a flight home.

With so much terror in the world right now, it feels meaningless going through the motions. Writing a paper for a literature class. Listening to stupid boy drama, class drama, friend drama. Doing anything really, other than feeling completely and totally inept as the world crumbles. This is where you would argue that this is exactly why you should stay put, where the world needs you and where you can help.

I didn't really have a goal or vision as to where this would go when I started writing. It really was a word vomit after hearing about Ezra's tragic passing. I'm so proud of you for all that you've done, for volunteering to serve in the IDF, for being someone who went out and tried to help in a time where seemingly everything is wrong with the world. I'm proud of you for wanting to stand by your brothers and for reminding us that there is still so much good out there, so much love and so much compassion. That in all of this darkness there is so much more light than they can ever hope to squash. In believing in each other and loving our neighbors, we push the light forward and refuse to allow terror to win. I'm proud of you every day.