Fighting

Ten years ago we fought. Ten years ago we fought an epic battle of words. It lasted many hours. I even insulted her because I knew it would hurt. She did the same. She wanted me not to go to camp. I'd be far away, out of touch. (She was the only successful pen-pal I have ever had, and the only person I habitually wrote from camp.) I wanted her to understand that going to camp did not mean I cared any less about her. I wouldn't be able to see her more if I didn't go, and it sure beat my parents' house for the summer. Plus, that was my Chalutzim year and it was only 7 weeks long, so maybe I could visit for longer at the end of the summer. She wanted me to understand that she would be lonelier without me on the other end of the telephone. But instead of speaking in civilized voices, we yelled angrily. When she hung up the phone, she said, "I love you. I love you more than anything, but, honestly, I kind of hate you right now." That conversation is one of ours I remember most.