Sometimes I travel not to look for new places, but to look for myself. The real me. The one who laughs sincerely when she gets lost in an old quarter. The one who sits by the window with a cup of coffee and watches an unfamiliar rain wash over an unfamiliar city.
I love being alone on the road. But…
Sometimes I think how good it would be if I wasn’t alone.

How good it would be if you walked beside me. Without pathos, without scenes, without promises. Just walking. A little silent, a little thoughtful. With a light in my eyes that would warm me better than any blanket in a hotel room at night.
If we argued about which turn to take, and in the end we turned completely the wrong way — and we liked it.
If we sat on the stone steps of a square in a small town where the evening bell rings, and just were. Without plans. Without haste. Together.

Sometimes I see you among passersby - like the shadow of someone I haven't met yet.
In a man who buys flowers near the train station. In someone who helps someone carry a suitcase on the subway steps. In someone who just looks up at the sky - just like me.

I don't lack adventures. I lack a quiet "we".
Uncontrived. Undramatic. Tender and real.
So that in every city I can say: "This is not just another trip. This is another story - ours".

And I know: somewhere you too are walking through the city, looking at the lights in the windows and thinking that it would be nice... together. Someday.

And I believe that we will meet.
Somewhere - where real journeys begin.