“Don’t worry,” I said,” I love you.”

 

I picked up the phone and described the situation to the operator as best I could, but in truth I didn’t understand it at all.

 

I’d gone to sleep in a home by the sea and woken up underwater. My wake up call a foreign noise from my girlfriend, I turned to investigate and found her still, silent and scared.

 

Outside, waves pounded.

 

Men arrived before I hung up. They asked questions, and carried her out like furniture. From the back of the ambulance, I no longer saw the waves but I could still feel them.

 

Weeks passed and answers were gained, though none provided a comfort. Words were said that made no sense, though I understood them all. Clot, I knew. Tumour, I knew. I knew the words’ meanings in the same way that I knew they had no place in our life.

 

But we had a new life now, lived under water. It would be a hard one, but one lived together.

 

I believe that love, like a wave, is never tamed but braved. Sometimes it crashes, but sometimes it strokes.