Flying in airplanes absolutely terrifies me. I grab onto the armrests as soon as the fasten seat belt sign comes on, and pray to the universe that I will land in one piece. I start sweating like I do before a first date at the slightest sign of turbulence, and turn up my music as loud as I can stand. I am an obnoxiously nervous and ugly flyer.
Needless to say, I have to take medicine for all my flights.
On my most recent flight, I didn’t take my usual pill. I didn’t even have to turn my beloved Taylor Swift on. And it’s all because a certain boy sat next to me. Before our plane took off, I started reaching in my bag for the usual pill to calm me down, but then the boy sitting next to me started talking.
And so, I closed my bag and my eyes and prayed to the universe that I would survive the next hour on this plane. Turns out, I was the most calm and collected I have been in a very long time.
I’ve always dreamt I would meet a guy on a plane but, it seemed like the sort of thing that would happen to the Serena van der Woodsen’s of the world, not the Jenny Humphrey’s of the world. Yet, on this short flight to Austin, it happened to me. So there we were, sitting next to each other, and talking to one another like old friends.
He told me he thought my broken thumb was cute and looked me dead in the eyes so many times that my stomach kept dropping in that sickly crush kind of way. With his conversation and his smile, he made me forget about the turbulence. He made me forget my fear of heights. I don’t know if I believe in fate, but something about this experience made me want to believe in it. It felt like this interaction was supposed to happen, like it wasn’t just a mere coincidence. It had to be something more than that.
During the flight, it wasn’t just his dashingly good looks that I was hooked on; it was the way he spoke to me.
He didn’t ask me lame questions about the weather or feed me any cheap pick up lines. He asked me real questions about my life, about my passions and my fears. I genuinely laughed with him as we talked about our college experiences and felt myself smiling like a little schoolgirl with a giant crush.
And then, before I had the chance to process this amazing thing that was happening to me, the flight was over. I fidgeted with my bags, unsure of what to say or do. I knew I would probably never see him again, but I still wanted some sort of sign from him that he felt the same as me.
As I watched the people in the rows ahead begin to walk off the plane, he turned towards me, took my hand in his and told me it was a pleasure getting to know me, thanking me for keeping him company. And then, he asked me for my name so he could look up my writing on Thought Catalog. I swear if we hadn’t been in an airplane full of other people around us, I would’ve kissed him right then and there.
So, to the boy who sat next to me on that airplane, thank you for restoring my faith in men.
Thank you for making me have butterflies in my stomach again. Thank you for making me laugh and giggle like a little kid. And thank you for giving me the best damn flight of my life without needing any drugs. I guess the only drug I needed was you.