I fly a lot. Asia, Europe, America. It has often been said that my life revolves around airports, and it's not an overstatement. Every time a plane takes off and the PA starts to play that same boring safety precaution tape, one thought runs through my mind: What happens if this plane crashes?
I imagine that I would be quite indignant, as someone who is sort of competent and possibly over-ambitious. I would think about all the millions of dollars that I have yet to make, all the staff of my future multinational conglomerate that I have yet to terrorize, all the lives that I have yet to change. Look at all of that lost potential! This men's world would never know what this little woman is capable of, and that's a real shame.
I imagine that it would be a pity. I'm still so young and there are so many things in life that I have yet to see. Countries that I have never visited. Boys who would never make my heart flutter. I have yet to have that perfect kiss. I have yet to know what love is. I had heard about it, the things it does to a person, and I always wonder when and how it will happen to me, and whether it would be worth it if you know it'd be so fleeting anyway? There are so many things I have yet to discover.
I wonder if it would actually matter all that much, if this plane never lands. Beyond my family, whose lives will be affected? I have touched very few, if any, lives. I have accomplished very little. I have yet anyone's heart. You know, some people think my life is so desirable. Younger girls come up to me and swoon, with blushed cheeks and hurried breaths, how much they want to be me. "Look at all the things YOU have!" But really, once that naive adoration washes away, and it will too quickly, what remains? I'm too flawed and quite insignificant in the larger scheme of life.
Poof! Maybe that's all it takes.
I close my eyes as the wheels spin faster and I'm catapulted into the air. I wonder if this is one of those commercial flights that never reach its destination.