Elise McInerney

I was the one who decided to step away from the relationship, yet it felt like I was the one in exile.

And the thought of sitting at home while my other siblings and my extended family gathered without me was deeply painful.

And so I decided that if I couldn't be part of the celebration, I would treat myself to an adventure so far away that I wouldn't feel the pain so deeply.

And so I booked myself a tour across Ireland.

And I'd always wanted to visit Ireland.

Growing up, I'd loved the stories of magic and mythology.

I loved the music.

And the idea of sitting in a cozy pub corner with a pint and a book amongst those sprawling green hills felt like it was just what I needed, like the travel equivalent of a big hug.

And even though my line of McInerneys hadn't lived in Ireland for generations,

there was something soothing about the idea of visiting a place that had once been home to my family.

And when I arrived in Dublin, I saw a sign with my name on it, and the man holding it said, you're Elise McEnoney.

And I was almost in shock at how easily it just rolled off his tongue.

No stammering, no awkward pauses, and just a sing-song lilt that made it sound almost pretty.

And I did all the touristy things.

stared in awe at the Cliffs of Moher and I kissed the Blarney Stone.

I drank a pint of Guinness at the Guinness Brewery and had a whiskey at the Jamison Distillery.

I wandered the streets of Dublin and Limerick and Galway.

And I felt a sense of peace wash over me as I sat in the bus, blasting the Coors and Cranberries on my headphones, watching those green hills roll by.

And as we're getting to the end of the tour, after a big day of sightseeing, I woke up from a nap on the bus and I grabbed my phone to see how long away we were from the hotel.

And when I looked at the map, I realised we were about to turn into a village called Six Mile Bridge, which I recognised as the village that my line of McInerneys were from.