There was someone sitting in the outside seat in the aisle across from me. I glanced over quickly as the plane's engines started to whine. Businessman... thirtyish, maybe late thirties. Rather handsome, really, quite attractive. Attractive? I shook my head as the pilot released the brakes and the 727 raced down the runway. Get a grip girl! Once we were in the air I took the in-flight magazine out of the seat back in front of me and pretended to be engrossed in an article I'd read at least twice. In a way, he enjoyed the adventurous unpredictability of their mutual life and knew she appreciated his understanding and endurance of her various, often spontaneous caprices as well as the countless hours he had spent offering such simple gestures as holding her hand while she'd been lying in her bed rolled up in a blanket sushi, going through several packs of Kleenex in her darkest hours that appeared to be looming over her at all times. Yet, he wished that one day, a guy—or a girl, for that. More

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