I grew up in a world where money is everything. I don't have to work, think about bills or build a career. I have everything that many people dream of. But you know what I don't have? The feeling of home.

Every new city is a page of my life that I fill with chance encounters, the aromas of the streets, the tastes of night bars. I could live in Paris, in a penthouse overlooking the Seine. Or in New York, where the eternal race for success seems endless. But I can't stay. As soon as a place becomes too familiar, I want to break away again.

I am a nomad by choice. I like to discover new places, get lost in unfamiliar alleys, sit in small cafes and watch people. Each city has its own energy, its own magic.

But sometimes, among all these countries and new faces, I catch myself thinking a strange thought. What if one day I meet a person who will make me stop? Who will look at me in such a way that I will no longer want to run away?

Maybe in one of these cities there is something more than just another adventure waiting for me. Maybe someday I will find a place where I want to stay. But not today. Today I am packing my suitcase again and buying a one-way ticket.

Because for now, only the wind is holding me back.