A time.

I think, part of my problem is that I have a romantic expectation, in the classical sense, that by distancing myself from people I know, and places I know, that by creating a self-imposed exile, that I'll emerge one day from the wilderness with something beautiful.  That people will look at me, and they'll think about what could have possibly happened.  About what great strides I've made, and what a person I've become, and there will be mystery.  The exile will exist in their minds as this period of unimaginable magic and growth. 

But it seems like, and I was going to write, "the truth is," but the truth is, I don't know, it seems like, people are what make us better.  People we know.  But I don't know. I'm still having a hard time.

-DMK.