There are moms, daughters, fathers, and sons heading home to visit the families that have missed them during their travels.
Across the aisle, there are family members leaving their homes to take care of business elsewhere - already missing the faces they adore so much.
There are doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs, and writers.
Next to me, a woman awaits the trip of her life. She's saved up money for several years just to be able to get on an airplane and see a city outside of her own. She is overjoyed.
Across the aisle from her is a man that travels every single day. His constant mobility makes this particular flight a chore, leaving him upset and grouchy during its motion.
On a single plane, an entire world exists within itself. There are stories beginning, ones that are developing, and others that are reaching their conclusion.
And for those few short hours, those stories overlap and intersect. We may not play a role in the stories' developments, but we do get to observe them - take the time to unearth what life is truly about.
Everything makes sense during this flight. We have a goal, a purpose. We share that objective with everyone else - at the very same intersection where our stories connect.
Oh and what a shame it is. To unfasten our seatbelts, grab our bags, and walk out of that single plane forever.
We'll never get to follow the stories we caught a glimpse of on that single plane. Instead, we continue to act them out.
Until the next time we board a single plane on another journey to somewhere.