Flying back, I had the red wine. I always do, a lot, because its free. Some old student mentality still lives in me, I guess. I picked an aisle seat. I like not feeling trapped. I like being able to get up and move.
After dinner the cabin settled. Lights dimmed. That familiar hush, then it quet down and only the planes sound filled the air. I scrolled through the inflight entertainment and landed on Diana Krall. It fit. Lonely, but in a good way.
After a while I got up and walked to the back, to that space in between where the flight attendants sometimes stand when they have their dinner. There was only one guy there. I asked for one more glass of red wine. He opened the bottle and poured a glass and we started chatting, just this and that.
At some point I spilled a bit of wine on the hand holding the glass. I apologized, embarrassed calling myself clumsy.
He was just… kind. He grabbed napkins and patted my hand dry. Not touching me, not making it weird. Just calm, kindness. It felt a bit more than friendly. I felt almost flattered. It didnt matter why. I felt okay. I felt safe.
If I could rewind that moment, I would have just been friendly, a bit more, and say thanks and that I appreciated him as a person. Just that. I think he felt it.
Flying home makes me feel like…
I want more moments like that. This is the kind of loneliness that makes me want to but tonight I choose instead…
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