British Men Destroyed my Life

After many long exhausting months of saving money, I was able to finally leave. I was ready. I had saved up a good amount of money by this time. I was going to quit my job. I walked in with my head held up high into the manager’s office. "I’m out of here!” I told my asshole boss and danced out of the store. That night I booked a flight to London, England. Yes. I just did. With the power of internet I was able to “just do it” all from my fingertips. That's all it took. Josh and I hadn't talked much in the few months leading up to my departure. We both worked so much. I thought this might be a nice surprise for him. Yes, that’s correct, he did not know. 3 years of our online romance and I could finally introduce myself to him in real life. There I was standing in LAX alone. I had my passport and boarding pass in hand. There were so many languages going on around me. Everything was spinning it felt. All I kept thinking was that I would be going to surprise Josh soon and that was the only thing stable in my mind. I walk to my terminal with sweaty palms and a racing heart. The terminal is filled with people speaking in a British accent. They are talking about how nice it'll be to go home. I would be visiting a new land I've never been to. Not only that, but I’d be completely on my own. The PA announcement goes off: "Flight to London Heathrow is now boarding." There was no turning back now.