I wake up to her moaning slightly. She is bruised and broken, bleeding, burnt from the sun. She tries to move but her body fights the effort as she lays sprawled across the charred piece of wreckage. The only piece that is left I assume. We have been drifting for days now, hell, it feels like weeks, months. I’ve lost count. I try to remember which way we are heading- I watch for the sunrise and the sunset, and pray there is land ahead or that we find ourselves somewhere in a shipping channel. I pray every minute of every hour, although I’ve lost track of those too, that I have the strength to rescue us.

When I am lucid and feel as though I “know” in which direction to go, I slip over the side and holding on begin to kick and push us in the direction we need to go. I know we are at the mercy of the current and the wind, but I must do something. I must keep trying. The water is cool over my crisp, red skin and the salt purifies my wounds, and somehow my soul.

I think over the recent events and how we ended up alone in the ocean. Why didn’t we see this coming? What could we have done differently? I blame myself for letting go, for not being diligent, for not being prepared. I blame myself for her condition as she lies motionless most of the hours. There are times she is awake, her mind cloudy and her voice soft. She tells me to hold on, that everything will be alright, everything will work out. She tells me that she is healing and will be able to help soon. She smiles and her blue eyes sparkle and for those moments, I believe her. I smile, tears filling up my eyes, as I take comfort in the thought that she is back, and she is healing, and we will be saved. Her moments of clarity are just that- moments. There have been a few during our solitary confinement on the vast blue sea.

Once she even saved me. I had been pushing our new found “home” along, swimming, kicking, as hard as I could, when I became tired and thought I would just rest for a second before beginning again. I draped my arms over the narrow end of the wreckage, placing my cheek against it I let my legs hang limp in the water. I am not sure how long I was there; I must have dozed off, when I felt a hard bump against my thigh. I looked around and saw nothing, but instinctively knew I needed to pull myself up when I felt the water move behind me. I screamed and instantly she was there, rolling over, grabbing my arms and pulling me up onto the fiberglass. Looking at my thigh I could see the red markings of some creature that grazed my skin but looking out onto the water I saw nothing. She held me until her body began to go limp again, whispering muddled words of comfort, I think..I knew I heard “I love you”, those words are unmistakable but wasn’t sure of anything else. I was alone again and knew that I was the only one who could save us.

There are hours when I lay on my back, close my eyes and let the waves lull me into a false sense of security and sleep. I think of our beautiful home and our soft welcoming bed. I think of what it would feel like to snuggle down in the covers, belly full, cuddling next to her, when in all actuality my body is beginning to shut down. I tried drinking from the ocean only to make myself sicker in the process. Temporary salvation for us is found in the random rainstorms that hopefully don’t wash us away.

I am not sure if we will make it- but I will try. When the feeling to let go, to just slip over the side and “let go” overcomes me, I fight it. There are times when I fall asleep and drift into my fantasy world that I want to stay there, just keep my eyes closed and never wake up again. But in those moments, it seems like every time when I want to just give up, she stirs and I know we must survive.