Romantic Fanatic

Descending

I suddenly recognized his faint music. Lover. Could he be trying to tell me something... could it be?

This is so fun! My heart is beating so fast and I feel like I'm floating. Maybe that's because the plane is descending and I'm actually floating. Wait, descending?! I check the time: still 2 and a half hours left. Whew. But that gets me thinking... what's going to happen when the plane lands?

I know about customs and everything but... after that I'll be all alone. The only person I know in Paris is the old man renting me a flat. But he hasn't emailed me in weeks, which is a little concerning.

I realize how little I've thought this through. I had all the necessities in mind, like where the nearest grocery store is and that I needed a Métro card, but what about making friends? What will I actually do? I'm a social media manager for a protein shake company, so I work  from home and the rest of my team lives in different states of America.

How do you make friends in a new country with a language barrier? Of course, I have taken French all through high school and a few college classes, but I know I'll forget most of it when I'm actually talking to a real French citizen.

French people seem so sophisticated and then there's me. Me. The whole reason I'm moving is to spend some time on me. I just have to focus on finding myself and having a beautiful and romantic and adventurous new life. Yeah! I'm in high spirits again until I realize I don't know the first step to achieving a beautiful, romantic and adventurous new life. Argh! Does a life like that just happen upon lucky callers? Let me quick dial up the universe. Beep Beep Beep! HEY UNIVERSE, IT'S ME! GUESS WHAT I WANT TO BE HAPPY AND FREE!!!

Oh my lord, I am spiraling. I need to calm down. I take a deep breath and sigh, closing my eyes and sinking hopelessly into my seat. I observe the space around me. An inflight brochure, a cracked open window across the aisle, early morning light from the window spilling onto a man typing on a laptop, a pair of headphones gently bobbing in the row in front of me, my new French tip acrylic nails that are already cracked. How fitting.

I press the back of my head into the headrest. I listen. A distant snore, soft music, a low conversation, a constant deep hum. I feel the seat beneath me and my seatbelt making me feel secure and safe, my elbow touches the armrest between me and airplane boy.

Deep breath. I smell an alcohol wipe on new luggage and the smell of anticipation. I taste bubbles. Bubbles from sprite, bubbles from nerves, bubbles from a new crush you met on an 8 hour flight to Paris. Whew, it's okay and I'm going to be okay.

A reassuring voice fills my head,
"It's okay to be nervous when you're not sure what's going to happen next, but know that whatever it is, you are strong enough to get through it."
I'm pretty sure that was from a Sailor Moon episode.

I hear the shuffle of carts and see the flight attendants making their way down the long aisle with complementary breakfast. I scan their faces and am glad to see none of them are my ex. They arrive at our row and pass out the containers filled with food.

I fold down Airplane boy's tray table and set down his breakfast, since he's fast asleep. I watch the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest and the way his eyelashes twitch ever so slightly. Observing his face, I come to realize how beautiful he really is. He must have a skincare routine, his skin is amazing... um, anyway, let's see what's in this container!

I take the breakfast contents out and arrange them: a croissant, mixed fruit, crackers and cheese and a butter packet. Bone apple tea, as they say. As I'm finishing my last cracker, airplane boy mutters something next to me. He still appears to be asleep so I strain to hear what he's saying.
"Can... I have... your.." he murmurs "...you're very..prrrghh"
No way. Is he asking for my number in his dream? Is he actually dreaming about me? Could it be?