Leaving

It's hard to go home. If I weren't going back to Luke, I'm not sure I could get on the plane. I haven't seen enough of Ireland, haven't gotten nearly my fill, and there's part of me that feels like I'm leaving home. 

I'm not sure what it is that I like so much here. Dublin is really neat, but it's not the prettiest or liveliest city I've ever been in. New York City and Seattle are. The country is beautiful and green, with rolling hills, horses, cows, and sheep, but Kentucky is prettier in that regard. I think it's the history of Ireland that gets me, the mystery and discovery surrounding everything. I could live here and explore every day of my life and still see something new and interesting til my dying day. But there's something more, something that just feels like home in Ireland, and I can't figure out just what it is. Even after finding out I have distant Irish roots, that's not quite it. I have distant roots in a lot of places, but there's something really special about Ireland. 

I don't know how soon, but I know I will be back.