I Was Flying Solo Then I Saw You

Okay, unpopular opinion time. I used to LOVE flying solo. Pure bliss. Me, my headphones, and a questionable airline meal.

No tiny hands kicking my seat. No need to share armrests. Just sweet, sweet solitude above the clouds.

The Solo Flight Fantasy

Think about it: you get the window seat! You control the thermostat. Want to sleep the entire flight? Go for it!

Catching up on podcasts? Nobody judging your true crime obsession. Ordering that extra mini bottle of wine? You earned it.

It was a finely tuned art. A perfectly orchestrated symphony of me-time. Then, it happened.

Enter: You.

I saw *you*. Not literally *you* reading this (probably). But *you* in the abstract. *You* as in: the perfect travel companion.

Maybe it was on a particularly bumpy flight. Maybe my phone died and I was forced to acknowledge other humans. Whatever the reason, something shifted.

Suddenly, sharing the armrest didn’t seem so bad. The idea of bouncing travel stories back and forth became...appealing.

Dare I say, the *thought* of having someone to navigate a foreign airport with felt downright… attractive? (To the idea, not necessarily to the person next to me, though…you never know!)

The Downward Spiral (of Togetherness)

I started noticing couples. Laughing over bad airplane movies. Sharing snacks like it was a romantic picnic in the sky.

Gross. Just kidding! Sort of. Okay, maybe I was a little jealous.

Then I saw *them*. An older couple holding hands during turbulence. That was it. My solo flight armor cracked.

I started imagining the possibilities. Someone to watch my bag while I ran to the bathroom. Someone to help decipher the confusing gate numbers.

Someone to split that giant bag of airport pretzels with!

The Great Pretzel Conspiracy

Speaking of pretzels, have you noticed how overpriced they are? Like, highway robbery at 30,000 feet.

Sharing that cost suddenly makes them seem… slightly less criminal. See? Teamwork makes the dream work (and the pretzel more affordable).

This is all very new to me. I’m a creature of habit. A solo flyer. A lone wolf of the skies.

But… maybe there's something to this whole “traveling with someone” thing. Maybe.

A (Tiny) Confession

Okay, fine. I'll admit it. On my last flight, I may have *secretly* hoped the person next to me would strike up a conversation.

They didn’t. They slept the entire time. But a girl can dream, right?

Maybe next time. Maybe I’ll even bring an extra bag of pretzels… just in case. For sharing, of course. Don't judge me!

So, have I completely abandoned my solo flight ideals? Probably not. I still need my me-time.

But now, the thought of sharing the experience… well, it doesn’t seem so terrible. Maybe even… dare I say… enjoyable?

Just don’t tell my headphones. They're still convinced we're a package deal.