Thanks for the reaffirmation when you say "out was a better place for me." I so get that. I'd rather stay out beside the cold crackling of the ice on the treelimbs, shivering, frozen in why. Better out, than risk the wrath of his hatred of self turned in an instant to rage uncontrollable. Nothing but the quacking of the ducks squawking over a piece of sandwich tossed their way, and the cold wind in my face out, the bitter cold, cold wind blowing out the fire burning within. Much better to be out. It's safe out.