*Sigh* It is really something to spend so many years of one's life dreaming about going to a place, and then one day wake up realizing that you're actually there. That happened to me a little while back. For years I wanted to go to Scotland, to see the rolling hills, and feel that magic that Hollywood attempts to portray on the "silver" screen. As I began to pull away from the Catholic faith my desire to go increased, reaching a climax when I decided to pursue a Pagan path. Then one day I woke up. I pulled back the curtain in my room and looked over the wood surrounding that side of the palace as sunlight shot into the room. I went for a walk that day in the woods, and if you have never been to Scotland, you truly have to come. There is just something magickal about this land that you can never really describe in words. Yes as magickal as this place is and as much as I enjoy being here, I understand that there is something missing. I have always sought distance from my family, that is no lie. But I know that I could not be this far from my family, to stretch lines of communication this far. Even more important is the fact that my heart groans and flutters thinking of my beloved in California. I have not held her in my arms since August, and I shall not be able to hold her again until May when I fly out to live with her for the summer. The groans of heartache combat with the flutter of knowing I will see her again very soon. My place is not is Scotland. My place is back in the United States in the arms of the woman I love, and within reasonable distance from my family so that communication is not so difficult. Number the days, for I am eager to return.