When it Rains it Pours

As I mentioned in my previous blog, I am currently dealing with the issue of to blog or not to blog… the eternal question of to write down an honest and open appraisal of my life leaving no holes barred, or to sugar coat the truth, conceal names to protect the innocent and myself… I still cannot decide. The fact is that when I started this blog it was more of an easy way for friends to see how I was getting on, for me to be able to let out my creative juices in a healthy way, and for me to keep physical evidence of my loopy psyche for posterity. However, I did not at the time consider who might in the future be reading what I wrote, I did not bare in mind how my family would react to my honest writings, and I certainly did not expect to find it so hard to be open… perhaps this is a little revealing about how I approach the truth in the normal world and not just the blog world.

In recent weeks I have realised that Little Miss Graham is split in two… that is not to say that I have multiple personalities, although I do think that would be a fun experience for a day. There is the Channah who is open and honest, to the point of being blunt. She knows what she wants and goes for it with no fear, no inhibitions, just total confidence in who she is and an arrogance in the fact that all who meet her will love her! Then there is the Channah who is shy and retiring, who longs for an easy life, who likes to follow instruction rather than innovate her own path, who will not make the first move, who will wait and react rather than take action. In the same way, there is the Channah who wants to say to hell with it and write every intimate detail of my personal life, and then the voice of the second Channah pipes up;

“No need to put all your cards on the table… hold back a little of yourself, your personal life is just that… leave the good stuff for only privileged individuals… What if the wrong person reads it? What if the right person reads it the wrong way? What would your family think about that?”

And so I am torn between my Channahs…

Therefore, at the risk of upsetting one Channah I fall short in being as open as I would like to be with you, and you must excuse me of this, but know that reading between the lines can be a help and a hindrance depending on how you read.

This weekend, I was once again in Jerusalem. Some may say this is becoming a habit, something I will never admit to, as I refuse to believe that Jerusalem has finally got her claws into me, but for now I am enjoying the cool breeze that will not reach as far as my apartment in Tel Aviv, and the view of the hills that I seem never to tire of. Away from the girls I found myself in the company of strangers and felt relaxed and at home, once again being in a new and different situation is bringing the best out me, and I am enjoying seeing people’s reaction to the real me. The Channah who knows what she wants and gets it is in her element and is not afraid to show how she feels, at the risk of hurting or shocking anyone else… and yet he is lying there telling me that he doesn’t want to hurt me, that he cares, that there is a connection, that I am special… but ultimately that there is a risk that he will hurt me. Which Channah should take over now? Do I continue down the road of openness at the risk of being hurt, or do I close myself off at the risk that he will never see the real me. There is a grey cloud in our perfect blue sky… I was a fool to think that the blue skies would rule forever… I guess it was an unrealistic expectation. Nevertheless what am I supposed to do? Do I wait or do I take action… risk something great for the sake of my pride, or just accept that in the end everyone gets hurt… and wait…

And as usual all the other weasels pick now to come out of the woodwork… when it rains it pours, and yet I am not really sure where we are, would I hurt him if I was with someone else? Would I be hurt if he was with someone else? It is too early to tell, too early to really differentiate between the feeling of wanting to be with someone, and lust. So when another guy calls me and asks me out, what do I say? What do I want to say? In truth I just want to hide myself in the nook of his arm and fall asleep… I want to close my eyes and take it all one step, one day at a time and enjoy every minute of the good, the bad and the indifferent. Am I getting freaked out? Yes, but isn’t that what life is all about? People jump on the rollercoaster everyday in the hope of being freaked out, and although I have always avoided this scare… I am giving it a go, because ultimately you never know… this rollercoaster might also be fun… and not just make me puke.

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About channahboo

I was once a Yorkshire lass, I guess I still am, but after moving to London and then on to Tel Aviv, New York and then back to Tel Aviv again, I wonder how much of the Yorkshire lass is left. The adventure continues and although many see my life as an extended episode of Seinfeld (you are free to laugh), I can also empathise with the Buddhist thought of life as our punishment. I guess the important part is the love that you carry with you through life’s journey and my back often feels the joyous strain of the weight of the love I carry.
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3 Responses to When it Rains it Pours

  1. IsraLuv says:

    but have you actually puked or just felt like puking – its not the same now is it.

  2. Noodles says:

    Babes, don’t be scared on the ride … you got mates on the seats behind, ready to hold your hand along the way. 🙂

  3. Anonymous says:

    I have just stumbled upon this blog, nad i don’t understand. Who is this “he” guy”?

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