Starving in Vermont

I can’t stop eating. I know part of it is the fact that I have food available to me, while for the last month or so it was a foraging scavenger hunt throughout Europe. But it’s an unnatural need to eat – as though I am starving, when I know I am not.  Yet, I feel hungry; I feel ravenous.

Sadly, I think it’s one of those times where the analogy is obvious: I am starving. I am starving for something, hungry for something… something more.  Here I am, back in the States, and quite obviously mourning the loss of Ireland and everything it meant to me. It meant opportunity – for my words, for the landscape, for love. I came so close to understanding – I almost touched Peace, and then I had to leave. So I feel restless and needy, and so I eat.

I’m also in Vermont right now, which is another situation for me, since this is another place I believe I could be happy. However, I don’t think I could move up to the house, since I find it so hard to be alone here, which is very confusing for me. I have never found it hard to be alone anywhere– other than this house on Lake Parker. Crazy.

I feel as though I’m rambling, but there’s not much I can do about it.