I used to think travel would make me more interesting. Like every new city would peel off a layer, reveal something worth sharing. But most nights, it’s just me in a silent hostel bunk, scrolling through photos I’ll never post. There’s a weird comfort in anonymity—ordering coffee in broken Spanish, getting lost on purpose, pretending I’m someone else for a day. But then I’ll see a group laughing in a language I know, and it hits: I’m not part of any story here. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s okay to just watch, to not belong. Maybe that’s what I came for, even if I never say it out loud. #Travel #SoloTravelTruth #PostTripReality