all loves lead to another

"Thanks," she said flatly. "Thanks a lot."

Then, grabbing her ticket from the finicky airline clerk, she boarded the plane in a huff. It was always a hassle, it seemed. Why did everything seem like such an annoyance lately?

Her name was misspelled and so it took an entire 15 minutes to explain. People were just imbeciles. Cecelia really had no patience for it. She was getting more and more impatient, and she really hadn't a clue as to why.

Taking her seat, she arranged her things, then rearranged them below her feet. She waited anxiously for whoever she'd be stuck sitting next to. Sometimes she really disliked being on her own. Other times, it gave her a thrill. But lately, it was only fueling her impatience.

"Got on the plane...finally," she texted Seth.

"Any issues?" he cheerily asked, his goofy picture popping up on her phone screen.

It made her smile and almost laugh. Lost in that simple enjoyment, an older man pushed through her aisle and bumped into her knees.

"Sorry, seat 3A," he said brushing past her in a fit. "Sorry, sorry."

"Oh, it's alright." She didn't know what else to say. He was obviously as anxious as her, if not more, to be seated with a stranger.

"Mike," he said awkwardly. He had to be around 60, not that old, but definitely socially inept. She shook his outstretched hand, his grip more vigorous than she expected.

"Hi, I'm Cecelia. I don't like flying."

"You and me both," he said, getting his items stowed.

Cecelia didn't want to be obtrusive so she casually returned to her boyfriend's message.

"Well, they got my last name wrong, again. Now I'm seated next to this bozo who is sweating like a pig. Don't you just love the holidays?"

She sent the message and let out a sigh. She'd soon have to sit here in awkwardness without any escape. She was not looking forward to it. Without noticing, Mike had been watching her send her message.

"Who's that?" he asked, entirely expecting her to tell him.

"Oh, um," she felt alarmed, as if caught doing something illegal.

"Your boyfriend?" he suggested, a wild smile lighting up his face. It almost made her giggle. This man looked as if a child, a little boy telling a dirty joke.

"Well," for whatever reason she felt as if she could open up to him. "Yeah."

She bit her bottom lip as her cheeks got red.

"Oh boy," Mike said. "Oh boy, oh boy." He sighed and stared at the ceiling of the plane. He seemed much more comfortable than before. Cecelia couldn't place him. Was he some perverted old man who gloried in hearing about young people's romantic lives? Or was he just kind-hearted and a potential friend? She was perplexed.

Soon the plane began rattling down the runway and both Cecelia and Mike were clenching their teeth and shutting their eyes tightly. As the plane lifted off the ground, he blurted out to her surprise,

"Tell me about him. Tell me about your flame."

"My flame?"

"Yeah, this boy of your's."

"Well," she said, blushing.

"Come on, don't be modest now. I can see how you are when you think about him."

"Well," she repeated.

He was such an innocent, uninvolved bystander. Maybe this could alleviate some stress. She considered the opportunity.

"He's a total goofball," she said, openly laughing. "He likes to sing, sometimes a little off-pitch. He looks really good in sweaters. He's got these blue eyes...like-"

She realized she'd been talking too much.

"Oh," she stopped. "Sorry, I-"

"Keep going! By all means, you were just getting to the good part."

She smiled meekly, as if, again doing something against the law of being polite or just, normal.

"His eyes are like blue ice cubes, or maybe even diamonds. They just sort of sparkle. And when the light hits them right, I can't stop looking at them."

She paused, only to see that Mike had his eyes closed and was enjoying what she had to say. So she continued, almost bravely.

"You know, I always wanted to fall in love with a boy with blue eyes. I don't know, maybe after years of staring at your own boring, brown eyes, you just want to change it up, or something. But, when I met Seth, it was just like an added bonus."

The passenger next to her was quiet. He remained still. Eventually, he said,

"That's beautiful. How beautiful. I always hope to meet more hopeless lovers when I'm out and about like this."

"Hopeless?"

"Yeah," he said. "Like me."

He laughed then. He looked at her and she realized he too had a pair of nicely painted blue eyes.

"My wife has been gone for 5 years now," he said, looking out the window. The clouds floated next to them, almost perfectly. "I'm still hopeless for her."

Cecelia felt her heart catch on her breath. How sincere, how sad. She thought for just a second what it would be like to have Seth erased from her life. It scared her.

"Oh," she said, attempting to touch the stranger gently on his shoulder. "I'm.. well, I'm sorry. So sorry for you."

"Oh dear, please don't be. We had a life like no other. I met her while I was painting her brother's house. Odd sort of way to meet someone, huh? Anyway. She came out and asked if I'd like something to drink. It was hot. It was summer. You know. And I just knew, from the way she asked me, from the way she stood there, that expression on her face... something just went off inside of me, like in all those stories, in all those movies- I knew. I knew. She was the one."

Cecelia was enthralled. Every adult she'd ever met had told her to never settle, never take men too seriously, that true love was a fairy tale, and how she was just too young to know for sure. But this man was different. He was speaking from his heart directly to hers. She wanted his approval. She wanted his blessing. A complete stranger and she wanted to prove that her love was as real as his.

"How did you know for sure?"

"It wasn't something I knew like, like a fact. Not anything like that. It was some sort of pull, a tug almost. I could feel that anytime we were apart. Like fate was sewing us together."

"Didn't anyone...ever.. tell you that you were.. wrong?"

Mike stopped his wide-eyed story telling and looked at her. What a young and innocent question.

"Well, that's something I guess I never thought about. In the end, it really didn't matter. What mattered was that I found the love of my life, and she found me. No one else could know that, or feel that. That's just how it's supposed to be."

A moment of silence dwindled as Cecelia considered posing her next thought. She hoped this odd, little man didn't mind her company. She felt as if she were in a therapy session.

"My parents don't approve of Seth. And it's not even anything that he's done wrong. In my opinion, which is probably biased, he's done everything so right. Attended all my family's dinners and parties. Even brought gifts and helped clean up. He's been there to watch football with my stepdad and play board games with my little sister. He's even come on family vacations with us. So I just don't get it.. I don't get why... I don't get how us living together is such a big deal."

Mike was quiet, as he pondered over what she had just said.

"Living together is the first step to a life spent together," he said softly. "Your parents know that. They're scared for you. They don't want to lose you."

"But why should I be scared? Because I'm young? That just automatically makes me dumb and naive, right?"

"Hey now, nobody said that here. If you believe that, then you have a bigger problem."

"What?"

"Look," Mike said, an honest expression on his face. "You have to be okay with you before anyone else is. Are you okay with you?"

Cecelia looked down at her hands. She felt a wave of emotion rush over her. No one had asked her that in a very long time. Maybe ever.

"I..." the words got stuck in her throat. "I think so."

A tear slipped through as her face was suddenly hot.

"I love my mom, and my sister, and my whole family so much," she said, crying. "I just don't want to lose them either."

Mike pulled a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"It just feels like when I bring Seth into the picture, they turn away from me."

Dabbing at her eyes, she tried her best to regain her composure. She still couldn't believe she was sobbing next to a man she barely knew on an airplane filled with people.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No," he said. "Please don't be."

"I don't know what the right move is," she said, helpless. "I love him. I love him so much, it goes beyond words. When I'm not with him, my life becomes stale. It's not bad, but there's always something missing. Someone, I guess. And when we're together, either alone or with my family, or anywhere really, it's just right. Everything feels good, balanced, as it should be. It makes me want to be with him at all times. I come home from work and I feel empty. Like a dog, waiting for their person to walk in the door. My person is my home and I've been homeless for a while. There's no doubt, my family can see it. It annoys them, I think. They acted annoyed that I was taking this trip. I'll see Seth when I land."

The thought comforted her and steadied her heart.

"Although, I'm not entirely thrilled to meet his parents."

Mike let out a hearty laugh which made her smile and catch her breath. The captain came on the intercom and announced how soon they were to landing. The time had literally flown by.

Taking in a breath and turning over and over in his mind what to say, Mike began to give his advice.

"Cecelia, right?"

"Yes," she nodded, remembering how silly this all was, how he didn't even know her name.

"You're only going to be here for a little while."

She watched his eyes as he spoke. They were sincere and told her that everything he was saying was true.

"It might sound odd, but- enjoy it."

She let out a chuckle.

"I know, I just said for you to enjoy the stress of family and life and love. Enjoy it! Someday, it will all be accepted and well-known. Your love will be overlooked as law. Married couples become inseparable like that- nobody questions their love. And I'll tell you, sometimes that gets a little old. I want to reaffirm my love for my wife daily. That's why I asked you about your love, because all loves lead to another. It's what connects us. If we're unafraid to show it, to believe in it. You believe in your love, that's powerful. That's brave. And it's NOT naive or childish. It's beautiful."

The plane touched down so smoothly, the two hardly noticed. They shuffled around, like strangers normally do, gathered their things and made their way out. Still a bit emotional and weepy, Cecelia felt overly excited to see Seth. She wanted to fall into his arms in a heap of tears. She wanted to show him all the feelings she'd just experienced. Before, exiting the plane, she turned to Mike. She felt an overwhelming sadness for him, wishing that his wife would be standing there, waiting for him as Seth would be waiting for her.

Grabbing his arm, she looked him in the eyes and whispered,

"Thank you. Thanks a lot."

Epilogue

Smiling to himself, Mike got off the plane and made his way to find his luggage. How perfect he thought. He was in the best mood to go visit his wife's family, and eventually stop by her grave sight.

Lifting her heavy backpack onto her shoulder, Cecelia became nervous at the thought of being around Seth's family. She took a breath and remembered what Mike had said. Are you okay with you?

Seth fingered the box in his coat pocket. He didn't allow himself to overthink it. Just get down on your knee and ask. Don't consider what anyone else will think. All that matters is what she thinks. He caught sight of her soft pink sweatshirt and her big green backpack. Her hair was down and curly. Her cheeks were red, he wondered how the flight had been. He wondered if this would be too overwhelming. He knew how much flying stressed Cecelia out. Would it be the right time? His mind quickly snapped at himself.

No, no, not talking myself out of this decision.

"Hi," she said, when she finally reached him.

"Hi," he said, beaming. He engulfed her in a hug and squeezed her tight. She had missed these bear hugs. It made her laugh.

"Okay, okay, don't crush me" she said, giggling.

But Seth wasn't laughing. In fact, he was crying. It was gentle. But present. His soft, quiet tears. Getting on his knee, he reached for the ring. He had been so afraid, all this time, that he would drop the box or do something idiotic. Instead it was smooth and purposeful, as if the moments were happening slower. In slow-motion.

His fingers pulled at either end of the box. It opened with ease. The ring sat there, shimmering. The rest of the airport moved in real-time, no one taking notice of the couple by the Starbucks sharing a moment that would change their lives forever. No one, except the 60-some year old man with sweaty palms and twinkly blue eyes. He saw it and smiled.