Florence Was Beautiful. I Wasn’t

Florence glowed that afternoon—sunlight on stone, tourists drifting like ghosts. I took a hundred photos and posted none. I remember thinking: if I stand in the right spot, maybe I’ll feel something. Maybe I’ll finally look like I belong in my own memories. But the truth is, I was lonely in a city that everyone else seemed to love. I wandered alleys with gelato melting down my wrist, pretending I was enchanted. I wasn’t. The view from Piazzale Michelangelo was stunning, but I kept checking my phone, waiting for a message that never came. Travel didn’t fix the ache. It just made it easier to hide. #Travel #TravelConfessions #LonelyAbroad