The tornado that was him

“Some infinities are bigger than the other”, and we had our little infinity together in a brief period of time.
Our love story wasn’t the cheesy, dramatic, filmy kind. But we were happy in our temporary eternity.
We met in a harbour. His ship was docked there for a few weeks. I was just taking a stroll there, to unclog my mind. The irony was that it clogged up even more after I met him. I was dealing with a really tough time. The vibrantly coloured anti-depressants didn’t help me clear my mind. A psychiatrist couldn’t help me remove those hideous thoughts I always had running through my mind.
He used a pick-up line on me. It was ridiculous and provoked the smart-ass in me. I hated him and that smug look of his. We talked till sunset. He left me with this funny feeling; a tingling feeling inside my chest cavity. He made me forget all those ugly thoughts. He shushed all those voices in my head which told me to kill myself. For the first time; I wasn’t depressed, I was scared. I was scared that this will all come to an end. I was scared I’d never been able to meet him again. But that didn’t happen. He was there. He was there to remind me that the tingling feeling in my chest cavity was indeed happiness. He was my anti-depressant.
3 weeks later, I met him at the same harbour. The only difference was, I was his wife. I fell head-over-heels in love with him in those 3 weeks. I was sure that he was the one for me. The best part about all of it was, he felt the same way about me. People said 3 weeks wasn’t enough to get to know a person, let alone marry him. But who cares what people said? We were in love and it felt right.
His ship was all set to leave that day. We said our goodbyes. We promised not to cry. He pulled me into a tight hug. We were locked in an embrace for a long time. He promised me he will be back in 6 months. For him, I was ready to wait for years together. The ship set sail. I couldn’t help the tears rolling down my cheek. I waited there till his face faded from sight.
I was happy and sad at the same time. Happy that I finally saw the light at the end of a long dark tunnel and he taught me how to be happy. Sad because, well, I always feel sad. The sadness wasn’t like the feeling you get when your favourite fictional character dies. It was mundane, like that feeling of heartbreak when you wake up really hungry only to find out you’re out of your favourite cereal. You just want to curl up and cry for hours together as you reflect upon life.
A few months passed and it was exactly 67 days until his arrival. I started the day going off about my daily chores. Nothing extraordinary happened that day except for an official-looking letter in my mailbox. It was from his company, addressed to me. I had a surge of emotions as I opened the letter. The feeling of dread was like a punch in my gut.
His ship was caught in a storm and it went down. Not even a single member on-board could be saved. If it had been a movie, thunder and lightning sounds would’ve played in the background. I couldn’t cry because it didn’t sink in my thick skull that he wasn’t coming back. It took me a week to wrap my head around the fact that my anti-depressant had actually pushed me neck-deep into depression. He was like a tornado; he completely swept me off my feet and left me in ruins. My life was filled with a deafening, torturous silence. The intensity of my depression was multiplied by a million. It left me overwhelmed and I didn’t see any reason to exist.
So here I am, sitting on the same harbour, writing this letter. I’m going to put this in a corked bottle and fling it in the sea, just like they do in the movies. Maybe someday, someone will find this and hold on to my tragic love story. By then, I’ll be long gone. I’m giving myself to the hungry sea that swallowed him. I’m going in search of my anti-depressant.
Goodbye.