Yeah. I keep getting flashes of this, interspersed with a weird dreamlike state where I have no idea how to process the things that are going on.

So, my proposal is this - as we’re flying parallel over the Atlantic, we use the turbulence created by the winter storms to glide over to each other’s plane, high-five in mid-air, then panic as we realise we’re going to the wrong country. You down?

Arden and I met through Tumblr. Back when it was cool. Or, more specifically, back when you could scroll through the Grim Fandango tag and get back to the very first post. In this case, it was Arden talking about her tattoo (which looks sort of like this, except without the text or background). We started talking, and things went from there. Unbelievably, I didn’t transform into a 50-year-old stalker as I started to develop feelings for her, which just goes to show: everyone on the internet is trustworthy.

It could be Aer Lingus.