I'd go back to Ireland again. I miss it more than anything. The feeling of such a literal connection to my family, my history... of breathing the air once breathed by my ancestors hundreds of years ago. I wear their face, their blood is in my veins, and I want to go back, need to go back. I miss the sea air, the mists over the hills, the icy fingers and windy mornings, the rush of fondness for a place I'd never been yet knew so well. And I'd go alone, to be alone with myself, my history, my thoughts and dreams and imaginings. I'm content with myself and who I will become.