The strangest, most happiest day of my life.
13 living hostages. There are no living hostages left in gaza, and my heart is exploding with joy.
But I cant shake the grief that has grown on my bones like a second skin for 738 days. The grief, that follows me everywhere I go and taunts everything I see.
The grief for those who arent here yet, and will only be here in coffins.
The grief for those who were murdered that day, and those who died since that day either in captivity, in terror, or while doing gods work to make our life safer.
But I hope I can be happy, I really do.
I deserve to be happy, we all do.