【exile】In the quiet corners of a forgotten town, where time moves like a slow river and shadows stretch longer than they should, there is a name that lingers in hushed conversations—exile. Not the kind you find in history books or poetry, but something more personal, more intimate. It’s not about being cast out from a land, but rather from a life that once felt familiar.

Exile begins with a whisper. A moment when the world shifts, and you realize you no longer belong to the place you called home. It’s not always dramatic. Sometimes it’s just a feeling—like the air has changed, or the people around you have grown distant. You try to hold on, to fit back into the mold, but it no longer fits. And so, you begin to wander.

Not physically, though that often follows. More like a journey within. You start to question everything—the choices you made, the people you trusted, the dreams you once had. The exile isn’t just about leaving; it’s about the loss of something deeper. The loss of identity, of belonging, of purpose.

But exile is not always a punishment. Sometimes it’s a gift. A chance to see yourself clearly, without the noise of others’ expectations. To rediscover who you are when no one is watching. To build a new life from the ashes of the old. Exile teaches resilience. It teaches silence. It teaches you how to listen to your own voice again.

And in the end, maybe that’s what exile is really about—not the loss, but the transformation. Not the pain, but the possibility. Because even in exile, there is still a path forward. You may be far from where you started, but you are not lost. You are simply becoming.