Why does it still seem so real....

There are times when I close my eyes and my mind floods with memories of Honduras, Guatemala and Chile. More often than not the memories are a source of amusement, remembering all the wonderful and crazy things that happened. Other times it's as if they are haunting me, filling me with such an intense longing and a hint of emptiness that I feel as if the only way to make things right is to hop on a plane and get back down there as quickly as possible. For many months now I have been trying to do just that, get back down there. It feels like a part of me is still, and always will be down there, a part of myself that I loved...and that I am slowly losing. It's hard to make most people understand how 2 months of cold showers, big bugs, and third-world living could actually be liberating and addicting...but is was... I've thought many times about taking Eva down with me, it just scares me to think about taking her down there being so little....carrying everything for the two of us, her running off, the diseases... When I get scared like that I always think about my favorite book The Alchemist (by Paulo Coelho) and I ask myself...Do I want to be the shephard or the baker? I don't EVER want to be the baker....EVER...I feel as if I have been lately...but, changes are in the works, and I might have to suck it up and see if someone can watch Eva (I feel selfish and horrible for even wanting to go somewhere without her) so that I can go back for a few days, find that part of myself again and restore my sanity. At least for a little while.