I fall in love over and over again—not with people, but with sunsets in foreign lands and the thrill of the unknown. There’s something intoxicating about standing in a place I’ve never been before, watching the sky melt into hues of gold and crimson, knowing that I am exactly where I’m meant to be.

Love, for me, isn’t found in whispered promises or grand romantic gestures. It’s in the way the ocean sighs against the shore at dusk, in the twinkle of lanterns lighting up a quiet street, in the laughter of strangers sharing a meal as if they’ve known each other forever. My heart belongs not to one person, but to the world itself—the way it surprises me, challenges me, and fills me with a sense of wonder I can never quite explain.

I have felt the rush of stepping onto a train with no clear destination, of tasting a dish so rich in flavor it tells a story of its own, of wandering through an unfamiliar city at night, my only guide the glow of streetlights and the hum of distant music. This is the kind of love that never fades, the kind that keeps me yearning for more.

While others search for a soulmate, I chase the magic of the unknown. Because in every new adventure, every breathtaking view, every fleeting moment of awe, I find the kind of love that never asks me to stay still—it only asks me to keep exploring.