The train window framed the Matterhorn and a scatter of larches, gold against the last snow. Everyone pressed their faces to the glass, phones up, chasing proof they’d seen it. I tried, too. But all I could think about was how the glass kept everything at a distance—like I was watching someone else’s life, not living mine. You tell yourself Switzerland will feel different, that a perfect view will shake something loose. But sometimes you’re just a passenger, numb and tired, collecting photos you’ll never post. The mountain doesn’t care if you’re awed or empty. It just is. #Travel #TravelConfessions #TravelFatigue