I was a teenager during the second intifada...

A lot of people like to talk about how Israel is a democracy, or it’s important for jews to have a place to call their own, or any other number of things, but for me it’s about the children I saw blown to bits. It’s about going to Tel Aviv during the height of the bombings and partying like we were invincible.<br><br>It’s not that we were, it’s just that we went out of our way to pretend we were. Every weekend we would go out and drink and dance and live. Because on Monday when we dragged our hungover asses to school, we didn’t know if we would be the one who got blown up that day. The one who never made it home, or the one who died at the mall with the shrapnel from a c4 explosive shredding our insides.<br><br>There was one bombing where we had our class reunion, and multiple people were killed in front of me. A large majority of the people next to me were injured.<br><br>There was a suicide bomber one night who blew himself up across the street from the bar I was at. I was busy making out with my then girlfriend, so she told me the next day about it.<br><br>I watched a suicide bomber blow himself up in the middle of the street one day. I was in my car and I was going to pass him, then a bus was in front of me, I was a few cars back. Then there was a flash of light and I felt something bounce off my car. I pulled over and got out, and looked over at something I will never forget. <br><br>When you see children in pieces, it’s not something you can describe. Or it’s not something I can describe. I watched children, literal children, come out in pieces, and they were placed into body bags. <br><br>That is the intifada. That is what Palestine is. A people who send children to die and celebrate when they do. <br><br>I come from a long line of people who were either in the army or were slaughtered by the arab neighbours. I am a jew and I will support Israel forever. That is where my heart is.