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I already told Daniel on our last call that I was going on this trip. He told me that he was proud of me so now the last thing I want to do is tell him that I chickened out and turned around in the LAX airport.
If I want to have any hope of Daniel returning to a better version of the woman he left, I need to prove that I won’t let my fear dictate our lives anymore.
This is a test.
A test that I need to pass.
Not just to prove to Daniel that I can change, but to prove to myself that fear doesn’t have to dictate my life if I don’t want it to.
Besides, this isn’t a tornado ripping through my college campus in Stillwater, Oklahoma… This is a hurricane that’s still not expected to hit land.
I hate that a little Seattle lightning storm can shake me with fear. I hate that loud claps of thunder will have me squeezing my eyes shut so tight that I can see stars as I reach out for a sleeping Daniel in the middle of the night.
Daniel and about a hundred other students huddled down in that basement bunker all endured the same tornado that demolished several of the buildings on our college campus that day, and it hasn't caused him any of the same trauma that it has for me.
Daniel held me against his chest as we sat clinging to each other. The lights of the basement flickered wildly as the tornado came close to us until we lost power altogether, leaving us in the dark beside the small crawl space windows that let in barely any light.
Daniel’s dorm building was spared, and luckily, no one on campus was hurt, though the local hospital ER was overrun with injuries from students of the college and residents of the city.
I can still remember how the screaming and crying of others trapped with us made me feel.
There's hopelessness in those moments. A feeling of dread and fear, knowing that there is nothing you can do about the inevitable outcome of your situation.
Your fate has already been decided and there is nothing you can do to change it.
Nothing I have ever experienced has made me feel so powerless and weak as hearing the wind howl and the brick building above us creak as it attempted to withstand one of Mother Nature's most destructive forces.
Even the sound of heavy winds against my skyrise apartment in Seattle brings me back to being held hostage in the dingy, musty-smelling basement with Daniel's arms wrapped firmly around me as he spoke against my temple, telling me that we would be ok.
I knew he couldn't hold to any of the promises he made. He was as helpless to keep the tornado from barreling through the building above us as I was.
But nonetheless, I held him back as if my life depended on it, and he’s been my rock ever since.
My phone dings with a text.
It's from Daniel.
I changed his contact on my phone the day he proposed and I haven't had the heart to change it back. Here in another month, it won't matter anyway.
Fiance: Where are you? Are you in Mexico yet? I just saw the storm warning.
My heart leaps seeing his contact come over my phone and knowing that he sees the risk I’m taking. I want this to mean something to him like it means something to me.
Brynn: Not yet, but I’m boarding my flight right now. They haven’t canceled the flight yet.
His reply is quick, and I can’t help but smile that he’s texting back quicker than he has in the last month. I’ve got his attention and that feels good after being apart for so long.
Fiance : Are you sure you should go? I won’t be there with you this time. Do you think you’re ready for this?
This is exactly the moment I’ve been waiting for.
The moment when Daniel sees that I’m taking this break to heart and that I’m trying to become the best version of myself for our future.
Brynn: This is what our break is for, isn’t it? I need to prove to myself that I can do this. And I’ll be spending most of my time inside writing anyway. What’s a little wind?
I walk up to my gate and listen to the conversation of nervous travelers, but none of them seem concerned enough not to board the aircraft.
I take my place in line as the gate agent quickly moves us all through, scanning our tickets as we walk by.
