Airports scared the living daylights out of me. To me, they were no less terrifying than planes and the mere thought of setting a foot in either one of them turned me into a ball of stress.
Luckily, today I had some extra time to figure out this labyrinth. To my surprise, I somehow managed to find the right terminal and gate without getting lost too many times.
With at least one hour to spare, I considered wandering around the shops to kill the time, but soon discovered it wasn’t the best of ideas–in times of extreme stress, my legs turned into a rickety construction, threatening to collapse any second.
So I sat down and waited.
Come on, I told myself. Millions of people choose flying as their means of travel every day. If they can do it, I can do it. There is nothing to fear.
Soon–though honestly, I couldn’t even remember getting there–I was buckled in my seat, with my heart in my mouth. The huge pile of metal I was now trapped in was about to rise tens of thousands feet in the air.
The engines came to life and we were informed to fasten our seatbelts. I knew that it would be a good while till we moved to the right runway and took off.
At the front, a stewardess was demonstrating all the safety procedures and while most of the passengers appeared rather bored and didn’t pay much attention, I kept my eyes glued to her–partially for distraction and partially because I did not want to die.
Relax. You’re not gonna die. There’s a higher probability of getting hit by a car right in front of your own house than dying in a plane crash.
My throat was so dry I could barely swallow. I thought of getting a drink. A strong one. On second thought, I didn’t want to risk dizziness or other nuisances. I’d sooner kill myself than vomit on that sexy guy occupying the seat next to mine.
At least there was someone to hold me in his arms in case our lives were about to end.
See? That’s positive thinking!
Next to my possible future husband sat a woman, probably in her forties. Smart clothes and a computer in her lap suggested that she was a businesswoman. Being on a plane was surely nothing new to her.
Everyone around me appeared relaxed. Some people had already fallen asleep.
How on earth do they do that?!
I looked to my left, out the small window and realised I should have made a wiser choice while booking my seat. How was I not going to lose my shit the moment the earth started to disappear in the clouds?!
The engines were getting louder. The plane was gaining speed. There was no turning back now.
I ordered myself to calm down. And breathe. Deeply. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale… I suddenly felt like there was not enough air to fill my lungs.
So there I was, on board of a plane, pressed to my seat, with a high risk of a premature heart attack, very unaware of the fact that I was squeezing Mr Handsome’s hand like there was no tomorrow, probably leaving permanent crescent nail marks in his flesh.
As we finally took off, two thoughts ran through my head. The first one was: IDON’TWANTTODIE. The other one was: If I die now, at least I’ll die chasing my dreams. With my eyes squeezed shut, I tried to trick my mind into thinking I was still on my beloved earth, travelling by bus or train, and the next stop would be the beginning of something I had always yearned for.
Even though I was still scared out of my mind, a smile formed on my lips. I was finally doing it.
I was living my life.