If I had been told as a 15-year-old that I would almost fly out to London, England for a boy, I would have never believed you. Never mind that this unexpected trip was for someone I had never technically met. At 16, I met a boy online and almost six years later I recklessly tried to fly out to London for him.

I never expected my life consisting of crazy plot twists that I imagined only thrived in movies. Yet, one morning I woke up after talking to this boy the entire night prior, and we began looking up plane tickets. I have never been a girl that accepted my life having frayed ends or 'what-ifs,' which is what our relationship primarily consisted of. I couldn't stand the six years of our faux promises that we would meet each other, so I took action.

I toy with asking myself if I was ever in love with him, which I acknowledge sounds absurd since we never technically met. I admit he was there for me during very difficult times in my life, always. He would always be a listening ear, he was someone I could openly vent and cry to.

Reflecting on our relationship, I never knew as much about him as he did me. Regardless about three years into our questionable friendship we admitted that we loved each other although never declared each other as together. For a few years, just the thought of him caused my heart to flutter, and I realized he completely broke through my typically guarded persona. So yes, I do think that I was in love with him for some time in my life.

I think the terminology for how I felt was young love. The way it felt was something like how I imagine polar bears feel about discovering the first snowfall of the season or when trees feel the quakes of new life in their limbs after an especially chilly winter. I had never yearned for someone to love romantically or a relationship, but when I talked with him I could not envision myself with any other person.

As time progressed, our communication grew increasingly unsteady as our lives grew busier. I went to college and he began working full time, and eventually he found other love interests. Eventually I too tried other romantic relationships, although they would ultimately fail and I would lay in bed at one in the morning wondering if he was looking at the same moon I was and thinking about me.

Two years prior and leading up to when I went to London, him and I only talked once every few months and it helped me to move on from the idea of him. In the months that we did not speak, I never found another man that made my chest twist so vividly, or someone who would literally make my cheeks hurt from smiling after a conversation. Instead, I went back to how I had been before him: guarded with no desire of finding anyone.

That is why I made the rash decision one June morning to buy a ticket to London. Naturally, he agreed on my trip and I bought the soonest ticket I could which was in August. For the first few weeks we talked every day and old feelings began to spark once more. Everything was great and on track until one day about a month before my trip he fell off the face of the earth. No longer would he answer my calls, messages, questions. One week before I went to London, England he got back with an ex-girlfriend.

I now had a plane ticket to London and a decision as to whether I wanted to explore a new country alone or stay at home and waste the nonrefundable hard-earned money I had put into the trip. I like to think I am an independent woman, although when I decided to continue with the trip I felt the blood leave my face. As I stood in line at the baggage check on an August morning I felt my legs shaking, I was perpetually close to tears, my stomach was empty and churning; I was terrified.

I flew to London, England alone, rode my first train (which was the wrong train, accidentally), discovered the subway systems (a foreign means of transport to me coming from a small town in Pennsylvania), and hailed my first taxi. When I got to the hotel, the front desk employee asked for one pound to which I shakily gave him 10 pence because I did not understand the way money worked. I made a lot of mistakes my first few days in London, England. After all, how was I supposed to know when riding an escalator or walking through the subway station you are supposed to stay to the right? Despite everything, I did it. I did it without a boy who I thought would introduce and protect me to everything foreign and unknown.

I ended up meeting a good friend while I was in London who luckily spent much of the trip with me. She showed me around London and made me feel comfortable. When she wasn't around I wandered, explored and fell in love with the city. I was free. I was absolutely free in a way that I wouldn't have been had this boy been with me. I took in the buildings, palaces, people, dogs, parks, sunsets, sunrises, everything that I could.

For many years I dreamed of meeting this boy that I thought for a period of time was my potential soulmate. Looking back, I realize that we did not have a healthy relationship or even friendship, although I hold no hate toward him in the slightest.

Because of him, I had the courage to initially take that first step toward London, England. Without him, I realize that I am an empowered woman who can now take that first step by myself. I wouldn't say that I am fearless, but I know that I am strong. Now as a senior in college, I am looking to return to London for graduate school, not for a boy, but for my own self-growth and enlightenment.

Yes, I almost flew out to London for a boy I never met. I thought that when I got to London my life would become something cinematic and otherworldly, that I would meet the person of my dreams. I did. I discovered myself, my will to overcome the unknown and my ability to face my fears. Now I forever have an unforgettable story thanks to a boy, but more so thanks to myself.