I didn’t fly for about four years after I saw the crash but I was surprised at how scared I was when I eventually got on a plane again. The slightest air bump and I would be convinced we were crashing. I’d say to myself, “never again never again never again” and I would think to myself, “I’m never going to see my kids again”.
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I count the rows ahead to eyeball my beloved aisle seat and that’s when I see him sitting there by the window. Him being the “you’ll never know who you’ll meet” my mom was talking about. My first thought: fuck Tasha, you could have at least put on mascara.