I wake up with butterflies in my chest. I feel jittery yet calm, bouncing around with ginger purpose. After a lovely weekend in Cambridge I’m packing up my purple backpack and moving on. There’s an anticipation brewing within me, an energy pulsing outwards that almost extends to my surroundings.

The sun shines brightly, greeting me cheerfully while enticing me to take the next step. Cars whizz by as people make the Monday morning commute. The breeze pulls orange leaves from the trees and they twirl gracefully down the street.

Like a coffee addict feigning for the next cup of joe, I anxiously await the next new experience. While visiting old friends is amazing, I want to continue to challenge myself. It’s easy floating from one friend to the next, but harder to go alone into the depths. I must charge forward and go further.

The thrill of being somewhere new is a high that I keep striving towards. Routine is completely lost as I try to find myself. I become alive through simple pleasures: a small interaction with a stranger, a street corner brimming with a bustling market, accents that are so foreign to the American drawl.

The day begins to get warmer as I take one last stroll through the center market place. It is packed with university students and tourists. Many begin to shed layers as the sun slowly crawls across the sapphire blue sky.

What a beautiful day to charge forward.