I’m excited about travelling to the US. To see the different cultures and cities. The way people dress and where they eat. All the places there are to see, like the Great Lakes and the Grand Canyon, and maybe even New York City.
First, there’s a seventeen-hour flight to get through. I’m thankful that it’s non-stop and direct, and also that Julian upgraded me to the premium first class, where I practically have a mini apartment. It’s absolutely incredible. I’ve been in first class many times because that’s the way my father likes to travel, but nothing like this.
The meals are the epitome of fine dining, I have access to hundreds of shows and movies,andmy chair turns into an impressively decent-sized bed. Not that I’ll be able to sleep much. My stomach is twisting with anticipation. Every minute on this plane is a minute closer to my new husband.
Not that we’ve talked about getting married quite yet. That’s the goal, though, right? The point of the site we both registeredwith is to find a husband. A life partner. So it’s a discussion that didn’t need to happen right away. It can be presumed that we silently agreed upon it once we agreed on each other.
There’s a chance that we’ll meet and not like each other. A few short exchanges via text and email, as well as a short profile online, don’t tell you all you need to know about someone. Even if everything I’ve read about him and the short conversations we’ve had have been really great and I love everything, it’s still different in person.
For starters, what if we’re not attracted to each other? On the one hand, it’s not the biggest deal, right? I think you can learn to love anyone if you open yourself up to it, even if they’re not visually appealing to you right away. Even though our sexual attraction meters will likely align, based on what we each saw in the other’s profile, to me—maybe tous—it’s romantic attraction that’s going to matter most.
I know that’s whatIcrave. Based on Julian’s profile alone, I think that’s what he craves, too. We both want a romantic partner.
I’ve read his profile enough times that I think I’ve memorized it. As I lie in my plane bed and stare out the window at the stars, the words flutter through my mind. Various phrases that stick out among the hundreds of others.
Companionship. Laughter. Cuddling on the couch. Adventures together. Exploring new hobbies and places. Making memories.
I doze in and out with those warm thoughts making me smile.
The plane landssometime after nine at night. Since I practically went back in time during this flight, it’s still the same day I left India. Time zones are weird. They’re needed and I totally get it but the way you can lose and gain an entire day really has a way of fucking with your internal clock. In India, it’s ten in the morning right now - the next day. But for me, it’s still the evening of February 7.
I get to my feet and stretch, trying not to be in a hurry. The two feelings war inside me. I want to get off this plane and finally step into my future, but I’m also slightly terrified. There are so many what-ifs. So many uncertainties.
The reality of the situation is hitting me right now. I don’t know this guy at all. This could go so, so horribly wrong. But it could also be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Needless to say, I’m hoping for the latter.
As the plane gets hooked up to the skywalk, I pull my backpack onto my back and dig out my carry-on from the mini closet in my airplane apartment. Now, to wait as patiently as my jittery body will let me. While I wait, I shoot texts to my father, my friends, and Julian to tell them I’ve landed and am waiting to deboard.
Finally, we’re heading for the door. As I step over the threshold, a burst of cold air whips up through the cracks between the plane and the skywalk, making me shiver. Huh. I didn’t take the change in climate into consideration when dressing for the plane.
I move as quickly as I can through the cold tunnel. Thankfully, the airport itself isn’t freezing. I follow the crowd and try not to imagine a movie where Julian first sees me and wraps me into his arms, holding me like he’s been waiting for me his entire life.
Is he bigger than me? Will I be dwarfed in his arms? Or will I be bigger than him? He’s a hockey player, so… those guys arebig, right? It’s difficult to tell for sure on a television screen. Then again, maybe we’ll be about equal. I’m not sure which scenario I like best, if I’m honest. They all have some appeal. I’m sure whichever is reality will be my favorite.
The crowd I followed off the plane begins thinning as some people head for the restrooms and others stop to get something to eat. I lock my eyes on one individual who seems to be headed for baggage claim and follow him. The airport is large. There are people everywhere. Noise everywhere. I’m afraid of missing a sign that points me in the direction I need to go.
Finally, the endless hiking and turns seem to end at a set of glass doors with security on either side as I’m sent into customs. Right. I forgot about this long process. The line is… not short. Frustrated that I’m throttled so close to finally meeting him, I sit on my carry on and type out a quick irritated message to my friends.
Me
Why do customs lines have to drag so slowly?!
Alok
Oh no. It’s like the universe wants to make you suffer.
Jash
But just think of the swoony moment you’re going to have on the other side! He’ll be there. Waiting.
I smile. Okay, not right on the other side. He’s in baggage claim.
Because it’s going to take a little longer than I realized, I send Julian another text.
Me
I forgot how long customs lines are. I’m still waiting. Be there as soon as I can.
