Flying doesn't bother me in the least. It was the thought of being questioned by an immigration official and being denied entry to the USA. I'd be forced onto the next flight back to the UK, separated from my partner, my home, my job, my life.
As I walked towards Immigration Control, my pulse would race, I would try not to shake. I rehearsed the upcoming encounter in my head:
Immigration Official: Are you a homosexual?
Me: I have nothing to say.