There are journeys that last a few days, but leave an imprint for a lifetime. For me, such a place was a small bay in the south of Italy. A quiet fishing village, where time slows down, and the evenings smell of lemon trees and the sea. I went there not for work, but for the first time — for myself. Just to escape. From fatigue. From the noise of airports. From the emptiness that sometimes appears when there are many people around, but not those who are really close.

I lived in a small hotel with a terrace. In the evenings I sat with a glass of wine and watched local grandmothers sing to the guitar, and children catch fireflies. There, for the first time in a long time, I heard silence within myself. And I realized — I do not lack adventures. I lack peace next to someone who will be silent with me, looking at the waves. Without asking anything, but knowing everything.

Then I made up my mind that next time I would not come here alone. Not as an escape, but as a return. With someone who will become my home in a world where we are always on the move.