I’m going to meet my wife on an airplane

It’s 2018. I consider myself a social person, and I can count on one hand the number of new real relationships I’ve made these past few months. Living in the northeast with everyone so focused on go go go, paired with a growing sense of isolation driven by the internet, I find myself feeling a lack of connection in a city of millions.

As the world evolves, we have fewer friends and more things. Less substance but yet we quantify relationships on social.

The other day I sat on a subway. The woman next to me was googling the title of the book that the man across from her was reading. The woman across from me was watching me watch the woman. All of us curious, all of us human — clearly lost.

It’s 2018. We have the world at our fingertips via a rectangular device — a great excuse not to start a conversation with a stranger. The lack of practice results in a compounding fear.

I think I’m going to meet my wife on an airplane. A flight confines us to a few inches next to another human, without WiFi — and less of an excuse to engage. A plane unlocks the potential for an extended distraction-free conversation. Where else can that happen?

I’m waiting for the day that somebody builds a way to pair people on flights with common interests. Next time I fly, I’d love to say hi.

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