Romantic Fanatic

Pilot

Sitting in the terminal seating is boring by yourself. The crackling voice of the intercom almost lulls me back to sleep as airplanes roll by outside the enormous glass windows. It's 5 am and I don't even remember getting out of my bed this morning. Well, it's not my bed anymore. I'm never coming back to America.

America is too plain, not enough romantic atmospheres. But Paris, now that is romantic. I smile to myself at the thought of moving to my dream apartment, maybe overlooking the pleasant grey street with a twinkling view of the Eiffel Tower. I just have to endure this airport and I'll be there.

Other people's magazines are spewed around my uncomfortable airport seat. What should I do...of course! People watching! I love watching people and judging them. It's early, so everyone is glassy-eyed and in their sweats. My effortless look is comprised of a tank top, sweatpants, and a messy bun. It took me at least an hour to look this good. I kick off my shoes and prop up my feet for a more intense people-watching position. I notice a man in a business suit briskly walk past. A lady with a stroller, a baby, and two suitcases huffs through the hall. Her husband is holding his briefcase and his phone. Ugh! I detest men like that. My perfect man is perfect. He's kind, loyal, helpful, positive, and extremely rich. Lol yeah, I have high hopes but, at least I have even higher expectations.

The people in my area are getting up to beep their boarding passes or something with the flight attendants at the desk. It's time. I hurriedly bolt from my seat, grabbing my suitcase, magazines flapping everywhere. My passport picture is smiling up at me with her toothy smile and big bright eyes. Beep! The flight attendant waves me through the small gate and onto the tunnel leading to the airplane. The grey walls and flickering yellow lights shudder as I excitedly jog down the path. At the end of the tunnel, the airplane door awaits with two attendants on either side welcoming me to my new life. I take a breath before stepping up. If anyone was planning on stopping me from going to Paris, now would be their last chance. If anyone was going to grab my hand and profess their love to me and beg me to stay, now is their last chance. If any romance movie situation was bound to happen to me now! Is! Your! Last! Chance!!

I look around at the empty tunnel and I hear the chatter of people finding their places in the plane. Now it's my time to find my place in this world. Goodbye America. I hold my head high and take the big step onto the airplane.

Suddenly, a strong hand grasps my arm. Could it be??