The morning light filtered gently through the curtains, waking me before the alarm could. For a moment, I didn't remember where I was or why my heart was already beating faster than usual.
Then I saw the backpack.
And everything came rushing back.
Today was the day.
I sat up slowly, letting the quiet of the morning settle around me. The world outside was still waking up—birds calling softly, a distant motorcycle starting, the faint glow of sunrise painting the sky.
I touched the floor with my feet, feeling a strange mix of surety and nervousness.Last night, my thoughts had been wild, restless, full of questions.But today… they felt calmer.
Not because I had more answers, but because I had accepted the truth:
I was really doing this.
I stood and walked to the window. The air looked fresh, as if the world was offering me a clean slate. I took a slow breath and whispered to myself:
"This is the beginning."
After a quick shower and a simple breakfast, I checked everything again—passport, wallet, camera, notebook. Each item felt like a small piece of home I was carrying with me.
Then came the moment I had been imagining for weeks.
I lifted my backpack and placed it on my shoulders.
It no longer felt heavy.It felt right.
Before leaving, I looked around my room one last time.The bed, the desk, the shelves… all the familiar pieces of a life I had outgrown.
I didn't feel sad.I felt grateful.
I locked the door gently, almost respectfully, as if saying thank you to the life that had led me up to this very moment.
Stepping outside, the morning air greeted me. A taxi waited at the corner, engine humming softly.
As I walked toward it, the sun rose a little higher—bright, warm, full of promise.
The journey I had dreamed of for years was no longer a dream.
It had begun.