Even though I knew this might end in heartbreak, that he might make my life scary and complicated and unpredictable, I knew I couldn't let him walk away. Because I knew he'd also make my life happy and comforting and full.

We make our own luck. I believed that, too. We chose our own fate. We controlled our own future. I knew what I wanted. I needed to go get it.

You need to empty your mind, and relax each other muscle group until you feel like you are going to melt into the floor. Then you just let it all go. All the expectations, all the unneeded worry, all the things other people want for you but you don't want for yourself.

Sometimes regardless of what we want, reality takes over.

It was hard to remember what I'd been so scared of. Being treated differently? Lack of acceptance? I was the one who hadn't accepted myself for who I was. I was the one who needed to be comfortable in my own skin. I hoped I could do that moving forward.

His hands still on his shoulders. “Hi,” he says. “Sorry.” “For what?” “For the fact that you are such a big flirt.” He laughs. “You’re the one in my lap. I was just sitting here minding my own business.” “Just the plane, then?” “Of course.” I try to stand up, but he pulls me back down again. “Man, the plane is really bumpy today,” he says.