It has been almost two months since we returned from Ireland. The scents, the taste of the food, the hearing of accents - foreign and native - still hang heavy in my mind. One other thing hangs heavy, as well, and that is the deep feeling of leaving something behind. It simply just feels like something of me is still there.
Perhaps, most likely my own delusions, it is the friends I have left. Maybe they are thinking of me, like I of them, and hoping us well. I would like to think that but it just does not seem to fit the hole.
I have tried to write it out, sing it out, prose it out and nothing has helped, I seem to be destined to loose that part of me there. I go to edit recordings and audio, only to watch and tear up remembering how we all laughed, or how long a hike it was to get to that "old ruined" tower. I remember the cold nights, with the wind howling its nightly song, and I remember the early mornings of waking up and wishing her a good morning while wiping the dew over my forehead.
And I cannot but see the world in such a different light now. So many of the problems we learned about one ethnicity having been forced upon by others, having occurred many times to other ethnic groups. It would seem that there is an overabundance of "hate" in this world to last through several cycles of life.
It doesn't keep me up at night. But it does keep me paralyzed to some level, and I am not sure I like that. What does one do to overcome the established set of blockades and limits? What indeed.
