Every once in a while you meet someone, someone you know you will never forget. Someone who applied themselves in your life at just the right time, or perhaps maybe the EXACT wrong time, and you have to wonder how things would be different under different circumstances.

A year ago, I had to fly to Michigan to take care of some business regarding my dad's rental property. As usual, I flew business class. (This has nothing to do with snobbishness on my part. I fly first class strictly because it's faster and the seats are bigger and the alcohol is free. Not that I drink it.) While making my connection in Atlanta, a woman approached me and asked me if I would mind switching seats with her so she could sit next to her son. "It's our first time flying," she admitted a little shyly, and I happily obliged. After all, I was on my connecting flight and could relax..no need to rush. So I sat in the last aisle in first class and opened up my biology textbook, preparing to get some work done in the hour and a half flight time. I also use books as a deterrent for anyone who may be sitting next to me to talk to me. I am a social person, but sometimes I do just want to be left alone. So, they were getting ready to close the flight and I was jubilant that it appeared that I had the seat to myself and I was preparing to stretch my legs across it and study.

Suddenly this guy comes crashing onto the plane, and seats himself right next to me. I groaned inwardly and looked out the window thinking, please do not talk to me, please do not talk to me. And actually, he didn't. He began arranging himself comfortably while I pretended to read. (I can't read with all that action going on.) I glanced at him out of the corner out of my eye and what I saw was a good looking middle aged guy casually dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. The stewardess began the safety instructions, and several people were still straggling on the plane. Without thinking, I commented out loud to myself, "I can't believe all these people are going to Flint. What for?" The guy sitting next to me immediately replied, "No shit," and we both laughed.

Of course, the usual conversation followed: Where are you from, where are you going, oh yeah, okay, I've been there before, etc. After about fifteen minutes or so, before we even took off from the runway, I realized I really liked this guy. He laughed easily and kept ordering Jack and Cokes, which was funny to me, since the Jack is served in those little one ounce bottles. I told him about my life in Florida and he told me he was a pharmaceutical sales representative for Pfizer, living in Atlanta.He was on his way to Paw Paw, MI for a funeral...his brother's wife had died in a car accident, but he was originally from Kalamazoo. We talked and talked. By the time the plane was getting ready to land, I knew that his sister was gay (he didn't care, but he didn't really like her "flannel wearing old man lady"), his brother and his wife both battled substance abuse issues, his wife just had their second child and was all upset over her weight (he said, "I don't care how much my wife weighs. I just want her to be happy. If that means she weighs 220 pounds but is happy with herself, I don't care."), and all the drugs he tried in college. We were whooping it up there in the back of business class as if we were the only people on board. He poked me at one point and said, "Do you think they're...." letting his words trail off as he discreetly pointed at a male couple sitting on the other side of us. Both of them had spiky hair and little lapdogs in their laps. I said, "Oh of course, darling," and we cracked up like hyenas, elbowing each other. At one point he was telling me a story about his sister and he said "fuck" and then immediately flinched and was like, "Oh sorry. My mom taught me better than that. I usually don't say that word in front of women." I flicked my hand and said, "It's all right, I don't mind. I'm no fucking lady anyway." He laughed loud and hard, and then started repeating it, "Well, I'm no fucking lady anyway." We had our heads together, cracking up. We talked a little bit about my hypothyroidism and how it's caused me to gain so much weight in recent years, and he said, "Well, yeah, but you're a pretty girl and if you are willing to work at it, you'll take it off." He said it so matter of factly that I was taken aback. I know I'm cute, but pretty? My mom is pretty. My sister Jennyfur is pretty. I'm just cute and I'm happy with that. So I soared on his words, because he said it and he meant it and there was no fanfare or bullshit about it. That was it. Here was an attractive guy who really liked me for who I was, who under different circumstances, could have been my best friend, who, if I didn't know him, would just be dismissed under my mental file as, doesn't even see me. But he did see me. And by the time the flight was over, we were making strange eye contact and smiling and I was feeling all fuzzy and wuzzy nuzzy and shit. As we were disembarking, I asked him if he was going to get a rental car. He said yes, he was going through Hertz because he got a corporate discount. He also needed a map because, after all these years, he wasn't sure what the best way to get to Paw Paw was and I said, "Hey! I'm renting from Hertz too! You don't need a map...I'll tell you how to get there." He laughed and said, "Good, because I don't remember a thing about driving in Michigan." We walked down to the baggage claim together, got our bags, and then stood in line at Hertz together. I let him go in front of me, and he turned around and asked me when I was flying back to Florida. "On Sunday," I replied. "And you?" "Tomorrow," he replied. There was another one of those long, not quite uncomfortable gazes, and I broke it by mapping out his way for him while I waited for the clerk to get my keys to my car. After I received my keys, I stepped away from the counter and he said, "Hey! You know what? I never did get your name." I laughed as I realized this was true; we had never exchanged names. "My name's Sondra," I said. "I'm Heath," he replied and stuck out his hand. I stared at it for a minute, and in a move that is totally Sondra-esque, stepped forward and gave him a hug. (I am a huggy person). And, of course, I had other reasons. I liked him. Really liked him. Really, really liked him.

We stared at each other for a moment, and then he said something that could have changed the course of my life. "Want to ride out there with me?" he asked. It seemed innocent, but there was electricity flowing that should not have ever been there. I was married, he was married with two small children, and as bad as I wanted to, I believe in God and Karma and I just couldn't. I didn't say any of that. What I said was, "Oh, I'd really love to, but I have an appointment with my tenants at 5 PM." Which was true, but the appointment wasn't until the next day. He looked a little bit, well, I guess dejected is the word (but it does seem a little strong in this case). Then he smiled, stepped forward, and hugged me again...longer this time. "Well, bye Sondra. Have a nice trip," is what he said. "You too," I replied as we stood there hugging, and then just as abruptly as he hugged me, he took off toward the exit. For my own sake, I watched him walk out the door and drive away before I went out to get my own car. I am a strong person, but I was weak at that particular moment, nevertheless.

I guess I feel it necessary to point out that my marriage is not always a happy one, just like many marriages are not perfect. I have struggled with the decision to get a divorce several times, and anyone with any sense is going to read this entry and see all kinds of psychological shit going on: the fat girl gets attention from the cute professional guy and falls head over heels in love with him even though, in reality, he was probably being a drunken jerk. Well, guess again. He was not a jerk, he was not drunk, and my self esteem is not so low that I feel I have to reap shallow compliments and attention in order to feel good about myself. No, I don't like my weight very much at all, but I like myself as a person and I know what I deserve and what I don't deserve, in terms of interpersonal communications. It was fun, it was kind of magical, and he represented what I didn't have back then, and what I still don't have: a tight bond, a nurturing relationship where physical and mental attraction go hand in hand. My husband lacks the ability to empathize with anyone, and as a result, I don't feel all that close to him. Therefore, the magic is gone and has been for quite some time. It's comfortable, and every day I struggle with the issue of is comfortable enough? Some days I think so, and some days I think not. If you want the truth, I would have to say that in the end, it's not going to be enough.

So, Heath, wherever you are, know that you enhanced my life with our little chance encounter, and it was well worth it to give up my seat that day. I hope all is well for you and your wife and your no doubt beautiful babies. And also, there are times when I wish like hell I would have gotten in that car with you.