Phil Ben - The End of the Road

He is doing a doctorate in mathematics at the Technion. In July 80 he meets and falls in love with Sylvia, a beautiful French Christian girl. But at the end of the year, despite his deep love for her, because of pressure from his family, he refuses to marry her. They separate and Sylvia returns to France while Philippe stays in Israel. In June 1981, he leaves Israel and moves to California at Stanford University. "Just a Love Story!"

At the end of 1988, I left the US and returned to France. Perhaps you wonder why I did not go back to Israel. I explained to everyone that I was missing my family, life in Paris, as well as the French language and culture. But in truth, this decision stemmed from far less noble reasons.

My point of view on life, on women, had completely changed. I'm sorry to break your illusions, but the world is not full of love, kindness and mercy. But this change did not happen suddenly; the process took time and required effort. Here is the story. During my early years in the United States, I tried to understand what had happened to me in Israel. I'm not talking only about my sad love affair with Sylvia, but also about the fact that I did not integrate into Israeli society.

Faced with the harsh reality of the Promised Land, the Zionist dream of my youth had broken down. The loss of Sylvia and the failure of my integration caused me frustration and disappointment. I was angry at myself, my family, Judaism, Israelis, and the whole world. Apart from my cousin Rivka, I noticed that nobody had regretted my departure from Israel. A few months after my arrival at Stanford, my teacher retired and I did not hear from him again.

That does not mean that Israel and Sylvia have disappeared from my life, from my thoughts. The scars of memory did not heal and remained open and bloody for a long time. I corresponded with Rivka from time to time. For example, she told me how she wept when she received my diploma, instead of me, at the official ceremony of the Ph.D. awards. It was a happy day for my colleagues and their family, but a sad day for both of us because of my absence.

I'm sorry to admit I did not keep my promise to Rivka. During all these years I never visited her. I could not bear to see the places where we had fallen in love and lived happily ever after, Sylvia and I. Once a year, I had to go to Paris for a week, and even then, with all my strength, I avoided approaching Versailles. The truth is that I would return to please my parents and keep the family tradition of fasting on Yom Kippur together. That's all.

I couldn't get over the separation from Sylvia. At the same time, I knew how lucky I was to live in California. I knew how many people dreamed of taking my place. Life there looked like heaven on earth, with bright sunshine, beautiful beaches, and charming blondes who smiled all the time as if there were no pain in the world.