There is a country most never visit – a vast, wind-scoured wilderness where the veil thins and the heart hears what others only sense as distant thunder. Some of us don’t get to leave. This is the terrain we live in: the sharp honest light, the loneliness that is the cost, the rhythm of pouring out then guarding the well. If you’ve always lived a little apart, if your soul has ears that never close, you already know this place. You are not broken for living here. You were never meant to live anywhere else.