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Some love stories transcend through time in hopes of being fulfilled. They flit from reality to reality, intertwining us with gossamer threads. Drifting on the edge of our senses, a teasing lilt in the back of our minds. And if we are lucky, we find them one day.
April 15th, 1912
All Rose knew was the cold. Pressing down on her chest like a ton of bricks, she struggled to breathe the frigid air around her. No longer able to feel her body, her mind floated aimlessly in the star-studded sky. Waiting for the dawn, or death. Whichever would come first. Utterly abandoned to the icy sea, she waited. She thought of her mother, tucked away in one of the lifeboats, warm and soft in her furs. A pang of guilt ran through Rose at the thought of leaving her forever, but it was quickly forgotten as she rejoiced in her freedom - however momentary it would be. Finally, finally her life was her own. No more hiding her heart. Rose sighed. The relief was calming, and she was so tired. The sea was rocking so gently. The screams had passed. All was quiet. Surely, closing her eyes for just a moment couldn’t hurt…
“Is anyone alive out there?!”
Rose’s eyes snapped open as she heaved a shuddering breath, her lungs burning. Weakly, she croaked “yes, yes…”. But they couldn’t hear her. Summoning what little strength she had left, she reached for Jack - her wonderful Jack - who quietly floated beside her, strong hand encasing her own. This was the moment their life together could begin. No more Rose DeWitt Bukater, she would begin again, with the only one who ever saw her for who she really was.
“Jack,” she whispered. “There’s a boat, Jack…Jack.”
He made no movement.
Dread pooling in her stomach, Rose called out louder, “Jack! Jack!” But still he remained serene. It was then she noticed the ice crystals dangling from his soft hair, and coating his eyelashes. His skin, so vibrant with life, now looked ashy and hard. The hand she clung to was cold.
He was gone. Her light, her love, was dead.
Her heart bled. Stupid, selfless Jack. In protecting her, he sacrificed their future. But Rose knew he didn’t mean to leave her like this. He was strong, she believed him when he said it was alright, that he could handle the cold. How naive she felt, and so, so worthless. Would it be better to follow him? Plunge herself into the icy depths that had already taken her life’s joy? It would be so easy. And then they could be together, thousands of miles away from the world and its horrors. Rose shifted closer to the edge of her makeshift raft, the tears she barely had energy to spill freezing to her cheeks. Just a foot more and she could rest with him forever…
“Is anyone alive out there?!”
A light flashed across her vision - the rescue boat was nearing her raft. Rose cast another look at Jack’s serene expression, her heart rending anew once she realized she was too weak to carry them both to the boat. How cruel she couldn’t even give him a proper burial. As the boat crept nearer, Rose recalled Jack’s final words.
“Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me... it brought me to you. And I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful. You must do me this honor. Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise.”
Never let go…
Never…
Even facing his own mortality, Jack held no fear. Rose felt so ashamed in that moment, how dare she even think of giving up. She had to keep living. If she couldn’t find purpose in it, then she had to for Jack’s sake. Who would honor his memory if she was gone? No. She loved him too much to let him slip away from the world forever. She let out a choked sob as she released her hand from Jack’s frozen one, the rescue boat now drifting farther past her.
“I’ll never let go, Jack. I promise. I promise.”
She kissed his hand one last time, before she released him and watched him sink into the water, fading into the dark, lost to the very fate he saved her from the night of their first meeting. She would never forget Jack Dawson for as long as she lived, and she would spend every day honoring the incomparable sacrifice he made in her honor.
Crying out for rescue would do her very little good, Rose quickly realized. The boat was too far and her voice was too hoarse. Frantically, she looked around her for a solution, her eyes landing on a poor, frozen officer with his whistle still clutched in his hand. As quickly as she could manage, Rose slipped from the raft and made her way to the officer, grasping his whistle and blowing as loud as she could.
The light turned in her direction. For the first time that horrible night, Rose felt that maybe, just maybe, she would be alright.
Soon, a pair of arms pulled her from the water, from the precipice of loneliness and despair, and she was at last, safe. Wrapped in blankets and gazing up at the sky hours later, numb to her own thoughts, Rose caught a shooting star speeding across the sky toward the first light of oncoming dawn. She remembered what Jack had said about his childhood, that when he was a young boy his father told him shooting stars were souls going to heaven. A faint smile graced her lips as a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Goodbye Jack.
April 12th, 2019
Rose walked into the museum, shaking her umbrella to get rid of the rain that still clung to it. Removing her hood, she flattened down her curly red hair, frizzy from the moisture. Looking around, she spotted the museum’s information counter and strode up to it.
“Excuse me, could you point me in the direction of the Titanic special exhibit?”
A couple flights of stairs later, Rose entered the top floor of the museum, specially reserved for traveling exhibits. Ever since she was little, Rose was fascinated with the Titanic and its sinking. She didn’t know why, just that she had some kind of magnetic attraction to the event. Some called her morbid for it, but she couldn’t care less. Learning about the design failures and excess of hubris that caused that fateful night inspired her, and she was now studying marine engineering at the local university. When she heard this traveling exhibit was making an appearance in her town, she promised herself she would take her day off and go visit. Rose had only ever read books and seen documentaries on the Titanic, never any actual artifacts, although she wanted to. Her family simply didn’t have the money to travel for their daughter’s odd obsession.
As Rose entered the exhibit, she felt a wave of cold wrack her body, sending a shiver down her spine. Attributing it to the rain still soaked into her coat, she paid no mind, and began browsing the cases of teacups, tile remnants, and paper replicas.
Even though she had never seen these items before, they filled her with a sense of familiarity, like she knew each piece from experience. Pushing the odd thought from her mind, Rose moved to the next display case, in which sat a beautiful gold butterfly hairpin and an exquisite engagement ring.
All at once, Rose felt the need to touch these items, to hold them tenderly.
These were mine, she thought.
Shocked by her reaction, Rose snatched her hand away from the cabinet and took a few calming breaths. “How can those be mine?” she asked herself under her breath. “They’re over a hundred years old.” And yet, they felt…
Alarmed, Rose spun on her heel and collided right into the back of another museum patron, letting out a soft “oof” as she nearly knocked the both of them over.
“Ah, I’m so sorry!” Rose said hastily. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and-“
She was promptly cut off when the stranger turned to look at her, his judgmental glare quickly fading to a look of surprise. His blue eyes stared into her own and she felt like time stopped. His sandy blond hair fell into one eye, and his honeyed skin glowed with a luminescence fresh with youth. For a moment she could only stare at him, something in her heart beating furiously although she was certain they had never met. I remember that boyishly roguish face, she thought. And those eyes… they bored into her very soul.
“Hi,” she said softly.
This seemed to break the young man from his trance. Blinking a few times, he straightened up and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Hi,” he returned, mouth slightly parted, never breaking eye contact. It felt like he recognized her too.
“I’m sorry I hit you,” Rose muttered, blushing, although she didn’t know why.
Had she really never met him before?
“Oh, it’s alright. I don’t mind,” he responded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. He shook his head and made a move to turn away, but Rose felt that she couldn’t lose this young man.
Can’t lose him again, her heart shouted.
Ignoring this odd thought, Rose spoke up to get his attention. “What brings you to the exhibit?”
“This might sound odd but honestly I don’t really know?” He chuckled. “I’m more of an art museum guy but I just felt like I couldn’t miss out on this exhibit for some weird reason.” He paused and looked at Rose more clearly. “Sorry, wow I don’t know why I’m telling you this, today has been weird and I-“
“No, it's okay!” Rose cut in. “I don’t mind at all. I feel the same way - I ran all the way from Uni in the rain because I felt like I had to be here today, which, I mean, it’s running for a whole month so I could’ve come any time but something said…” Rose trailed off, looking back at this stranger’s face.
No, not a stranger.
“Today.” They both echoed.
Smiling, Rose shook her head. “Well, if you want a tour guide I’m pretty knowledgeable about the Titanic so maybe I could walk with you? If you’d like, that is.”
A dazzling smile broke out on the young man’s face and Rose’s heart trembled. “I’d love that,” he said.
They began to walk in amicable silence until Rose stopped and said “Oh! I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Rose.” She held out her hand.
Once again, she was met by that smile that sent cozy warmth from her head to her toes. "I'm Jack. It's nice to meet you, Rose,” the young man countered.
“Likewise,” Rose said, smiling.
As they walked, Jack kept his hand intertwined with hers, and although it should have been strange to hold the hand of a person she had just met, Rose felt her heart soar. It didn't feel strange at all.
It felt like coming home.