The taxi door closed with a soft thud, and suddenly I was no longer at home—I was already on the road.
The driver gave me a polite nod through the mirror."Airport, sir?""Yes," I said, and even that one word felt different today.He shifted into gear, and the car rolled forward.
As the city drifted past the window, my mind wandered again—quiet, steady, thoughtful. Morning sunlight touched the tops of buildings, turning them gold. Shops were just beginning to open. People hurried down the sidewalks, unaware that somewhere among them, a man was leaving behind everything familiar.
Every street felt like a goodbye.Every turn felt like a chapter closing.
The driver hummed along to a soft song on the radio, and for a while, the silence between us felt comfortable. I watched the world outside with the strange calmness that only comes before something big.
Inside me, thoughts rose and settled like waves.
Was this courage or recklessness?I wasn't sure.Maybe both.
But I knew one thing clearly:If I didn't go now, I would regret it forever.
I imagined the moments ahead—airport lines, airplane windows, unfamiliar faces, the quiet excitement of landing in a country where every sign, every voice, every smell was new.
My heart beat faster.
Soon, the familiar part of the city slipped away, replaced by wide roads and open space. The air felt different here—lighter, cleaner, filled with possibility.
When the airport finally came into view, standing tall and glassy against the morning sky, something inside me shifted.
This wasn't just a building.It was a doorway to the world.
The taxi slowed to a stop.I exhaled, long and deep, as if releasing the last bit of doubt inside me.
I paid the fare, thanked the driver, and stepped out onto the pavement.
The sound of rolling suitcases, distant announcements, and engines roaring filled the air like the heartbeat of a different universe.
I lifted my backpack onto my shoulders.
This was it.
The first real step into the unknown.