The Mermaid Syndrome

My Dearest Anne,

I write this letter with a heavy heart, though I know you will never read it. I will not ask for any more explanations or beg for your forgiveness, but I hope you understand that I held onto this love for you even as the world moved on.

I still remember the first words you said to me.

“I am a mermaid.”

Indeed, you were a beautiful woman. You mesmerized me with a single glance, and I laughed as I compared you to the mythical siren. With the long, flowing hair, radiant smile, and sparkling eyes, I was lost in your gaze and trapped in the maze of your puzzling words. Your statement appeared to be more confident than a simple belief. So whether I tried to convince or disprove you, I knew your thoughts would remain unshaken.

As our meetings continued, I started to see a more human side of you. There were more times you smiled at me, and our discussions floated to various topics, from our favorite Disney movies to the ideal future we imagined ourselves to be in. One thing that I couldn’t tell you then was that my future revolved around you, and it would only be ideal with you by my side. Thinking of that made me want to go to different places, and we traveled a lot. Driving through a golden sunset, you saw a beach, and that was when you said you wanted to go.

I should have stopped you then, but even if I went back to that time, I know I cannot hinder you from what makes you truly happy. So, we walked towards the water, feeling the sand touch the soles of our feet and the gentle wind tickle our tightly held hands. The sun gradually dropped towards the horizon, providing a warm color palette in the sky. Pink, orange, and gold shades blended together perfectly, painting the sky with a gentle brush of light. A soft wind carried the salty aroma of the sea, and the air was filled with a warm glow. It was a magical moment, a time to pause and appreciate the simple beauty of the world around us.

Now I know that it was a moment of fleeting happiness, one that would haunt me for the rest of my days. But, without knowing what would happen next, I enjoyed being the happiest man alive, to have you in my arms, surrounded by this incredible scenery.

But this is where my memory fades, as I am still unsure which part of my recollection is true. I had dreams, though, that may be hinting at the ultimate truth. In that augmented reality, I saw your eyes glistening with the reflection of the golden horizon filling your pupil. Your hair gradually changed to a burning red of a ruby, your skin glistened with a pearlescent sparkle, and your eyes seemed glowing with an otherworldly light. You turned to me with a smile, and I saw that your legs had fused into a long, shimmering tail. At that moment, I realized that your earlier claim was true: you were indeed a mermaid.

I was stunned, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of awe and wonder. I watched as you swam gracefully through the water, your tail propelling you effortlessly through the waves. It was like watching a mythical creature come to life before my very eyes.

You told me stories of your underwater adventures, the creatures you encountered, and the treasures you discovered. I listened intently, wishing I could be a part of your world and share your experiences. But as the night drew to a close, I knew that we had to leave each other. I hugged you tightly, and as I felt the warmth of your embrace, I knew that this would be the last time we would be together.

…

But now, again, I am scared. I have been questioning for years now, for the realistic possibility tells me a different story than that of my faint memory. You were gone when I woke up from the beach that night, and I searched for you. But all that was left were your shoes. Pearl-covered flip-flops that were floating away in the deep ocean.

It’s funny how I was never a great swimmer, especially in the ocean, while my lover claimed to be a mermaid. But knowing that this might be the only chance to hold a trace of you for the rest of my life, I swam to the ocean and fought the waves with my sight fixed on the fleeting hope. By then, the moon was the only light source, and I was trembling in the cold. At last, all that was in my hands was one pair of your shoes, but I knew staying there any longer would not help me.

I knew that we weren’t meant to be from the beginning. I could never tell anyone about our relationship because I knew I would be pointed at. And when I told this story to my family for the first time, I was asked to go away, to leave them alone. Maybe I should have stopped myself when you first came for the session. We could have met anywhere else, but I could not stop thinking about you and the connection I felt with you, even though I was not supposed to feel this way.

I know you struggled with mental health issues, and I wish I had provided some comfort and solace during your therapy sessions. I should have been more responsible. However, somehow your absurd belief convinced me that you were not just a simple client but someone I would need.

After losing you, I retired to a small island. Far away from my family, where I could ponder on my own. Funny enough, I heard that there were sightings of mermaids on the shore a few years ago, and I was attracted with half-curiosity and half-hope.

I am a fisherman now, and even as I write, I have been fishing. You said you loved how fish like shad were attracted to the light. You told me how they would follow your natural glow and how it fascinated you. It makes me think if I was also just one of those fish, blindly searching for the light that had faded away.

The ocean has become my refuge, where I can escape the world and its harsh realities. But even here, in this vast and seemingly endless expanse of water, I cannot escape the memory of you. As a fisherman, I have spent my life searching for something I can never truly have. And now, as I stand on the brink of another sunset, I realize that I have been searching for you all along. I have been chasing a dream that was never meant to be mine.

And now, I have made a decision. I cannot live without you, Anne. I know I should not say this, but I do not want to live in a world where you are not with me. I cannot go on with the guilt and the pain. And so, I have taken my boat out into the deep sea. I have written this final love letter to you, and I am about to jump off this boat to join you in the world of yours, wherever that may be. I know that what I’m doing is what I have been stopping people from doing, and that irony points to me that it’s a sin, that it’s selfish. But I cannot help it. I love you too much. And I always will.

I have spent the past five years on this boat, searching for you, longing for you, and loving you. I have written countless love letters to you, pouring out my heart and soul, knowing they would never reach you. But I needed to write them. I needed to tell you how much I love you, how much I miss you, and how sorry I am.

Please forgive me, Anne. Please understand that I had no other choice. Please know that I love you. And please come and save me and guide me again with your light from this vast enigma of the ocean.

In that world where we can love each other without fear or pain, I hope we will reunite. And whisper to your ears again that I loved you, Anne, more than anything in this world. And I will love you, even in death.

Yours always,

John

P.S.: To whoever may find this letter, if you’re reading this, it means that my journey has ended, and my body has been found. If that’s the case, I have one last wish that I hope you can fulfill. Please take my ashes and scatter them in the ocean. The ocean has always held a special place in my heart, and I can think of no better final resting place than the vast, beautiful, and ever-changing sea. I ask that you do this for me not out of obligation but as a celebration of my life and our shared memories. Remember me as I was, and know that I am at peace. Thank you for taking the time to read this letter and fulfilling my final request.

As he took the plunge for the deep dive into the water, his body was immediately embraced by the cold hug of the ocean. The surface of the water was eerily calm, but as he descended deeper and deeper, the pressure began to increase. The only thing that could be heard was his breathing and the bubbles that escaped from him. He looked around him, and everything was a deep blue, the light slowly fading away the deeper he went until suddenly, he spotted something shiny on the seafloor. It was the second pearl shoe he had left behind years ago, gleaming with the reflection of the golden horizon. He extended his arms to reach out and grab it.

Meanwhile, back on the boat, violent waves and furious black clouds were roaring over the night. Suddenly, the bubbles stopped, and a heavy storm engulfed the ship as if they were hiding whatever was happening under their translucent covers. The boat, held in the hands of the gigantic body of water, was tossed around by the waves. Whatever was before was barely visible with the rain falling in sheets.

As the storm finally calmed down, all that was left was a bottle containing a letter and the boat barely keeping its place on the shore. The boat was battered and broken, evidence of the intense storm it had endured. The locals gathered on the shore, watching the boat being pulled out of the water. They whispered amongst themselves, trying to make sense of what had happened. The ocean had always been a mystery, a force to be respected and feared. It had claimed the lives of many over the years, and this incident was no different. As the investigation continued, the island’s people were left with nothing but questions, wondering what could have been done differently and what secrets the ocean had hidden beneath its surface.

The case, AR5H-B559, named after a combination of alphabets and numbers written on the boat, remains a mystery for the local police station with two unfound bodies and a pair of pearl shoes reflecting the glistening memories.