Dublin Desire

 Why is the possibility of desire so much easier to attain when away from the place I call home. . . 

"Text me if you want a real local night out". Our tour guide wanted us to make the most of Dublin, and he was willing to show us how to do Dublin right. I decided that night would be my last, so I may as well become one with the Irish. 

Abby, a friend I had made while on tour, met me in front of my hostel that evening. We decided to get dolled up, share a dinner together, and then hit the town with Danny. After a delightful dinner of chicken wings to satiate my appetite, we decided it was time to head to the bar where Danny had instructed us to meet. 

The pub we walked into wasn't what I had imagined for Ireland. It was heavy rock and roll. I directed myself to the bar as quickly as possible, Abby following suit. Of course, we ordered a classic pint of Guinness—the true nectar of the Irish. We sipped, but Abby insisted we head to the patio, which actually turned out to be a beer garden that managed to connect Fibbers pub with about three or four other pubs. 

Falling for Green

     Ireland was everything I hadn't expected. At first, I didn't give it much thought, except for booking a plane ticket, a simple escape.  Ireland was the air I hadn't realized I needed. I arrived in Dublin, exhausted but eager to go and see what this lush land had to offer. I grabbed my pack and headed on a bus to the city center. 

As I got off the bus, the mist and rain welcomed me with a seductive hold. 

Anascaul 

The village we drove into was quaint and quiet—at least that's what the facade seemed to portray. We parked in front of the pub and got off. We had a couple of minutes before dinner. Abby and I decided to head to our bed and breakfast, drop off our luggage, and spruce up. 

He gave me back my youth. While the night air chilled my bones and the rains washed away my past. It was us and only us. He was nothing I was looking for but everything I needed. He allowed me to breathe again. A breath I hadn't realized I had been holding in. 

That night, you said we met because fate decided it—this night, this town, this day. In that moment, I believed you. 

I have tried numerous times to write the truth about my experience in Ireland. Then I realized I didn't want to share. Ireland was meant for me, so instead I will tantalize you with a taste of magic. My dear reader you may use your imagination to fill in the rest.