I landed in London expecting a rush—something cinematic. Instead, my first night was a fluorescent-lit blur: the hostel lobby smelled like wet coats, my bed creaked every time I shifted, and the city outside felt too big to touch. I scrolled through old messages, pretending I wasn’t waiting for someone to check in on me. Nobody did. I watched the city lights flicker from the window and realized I was just as lost here as I’d been at home—only now, the loneliness had an accent. Maybe that’s what travel really is: not escape, but carrying your own weight somewhere new. #Travel #SoloTravelTruth #JetLaggedAndLonely