Departure

Two Suitcases and a Croissant: Leaving Europe at Dawn

It's 5:42 in the morning and the departure lounge has that weird airport vibe—half dead, half electric with people going places. I've got two suitcases checked, packed with way more optimism than common sense. One's mostly clothes. The other's a complete mess of phone chargers, books, instant coffee, and random stuff I couldn't bear to throw out.

The business lounge smells like coffee and fresh pastries. I don't usually do the fancy thing, but this morning the quiet feels right. I'm nursing my coffee, watching the sun come up over the runway. Out there somewhere, they're getting my plane ready. And somewhere way beyond that, whatever comes next is waiting.

There's something weirdly peaceful about this moment. No more lists to make. No more people to say goodbye to. Just me, my boarding pass, and all the baggage I've decided is worth dragging along.

Leaving Europe feels like peeling off an old layer of myself. Everything familiar—the routine, the language, knowing where things are—about to get swapped out for complete mystery. But that's kind of the point, right? Jumping into the unknown. The chance to become someone different.

I have no clue what's waiting when I land. But I know this much: I'm ready to figure it out!