But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore suffers so much more.

I visited the beach last week. At sunset. I loved how the sunlight hit the water, glowing like diamonds.

I remembered the day we met on a hot summer evening four years back, and you were making us tea. I had just read the actual real story of the little mermaid that day and wanted to tell you how at the end of it all she had no heart to kill the prince with the dagger that, if stained with his blood before dawn, would give her back the gift of her life as a mermaid. But if she failed to do this, she would die.

She couldn’t do it. She didn’t do it. She jumps into the water at the crack of dawn and turns into sea-foam.

I remembered this when I was on the beach

There was foam, so much sea foam.

It was so sad.

I was so sad.

And then I remembered this quote by the same author- ‘a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more’.

It feels like that for me now. This loss- losing you- keeps burrowing so deep that it won’t stop, and I don’t know how deep it will go. If I did, if I could quantify it, I would know that there’s a bottom that I’ve reached, a sort of absolution. But that doesn’t happen. It goes on. It keeps going on.

I don’t see an end in sight, for now.

Somehow a part of me that is still in love with the memory of you likes that.

~Loss.