Total Eclipse of the Hart

Lovers on the Sun- Day 3

DID YOU GUYS SEE MY ANNOUNCEMENT?!?!?! I'm super duper excited :)

Ok, connection time!

Story of the week: I was talking to my cousin, and I was mentioning a guy I know who's absolutely awesome, and she says "Ooh, crush?" and I'm about to remind her, when she says to me "Oh, yeah. Tits. I forgot." Still laughing about that one.

Quote from the week: *On Tumblr with a friend* "Look at that raccoon!" *points at ferret* (I was responsible for that mental lapse...I will never live it down...)

Advice: Your dreams should absolutely frighten you. If they don't, you're not aiming high enough.

Fun fact: Oxytocin, the 'feel good' chemical, is released in our brains when we pet cats/dogs (or other domesticated animals). Pet a puppy! You'll feel better!

TO THE STORY! HARTO'S POV!

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The ship phone wakes me up, the alarm ringing at the exact time that I had set it. I jump up, almost hitting my head on the low ceiling.

"Wake up! Cabo San Lucas! We're in Cabo San Lucas!" I chime, flinging open the balcony door and staring at the rocky formations near the cruise port. To my left, I see endless turquoise water, and to my right I see flourishing wildlife along the green landscape of the island.

Julie rolls out of bed, her hair a mess and her clothes wrinkled from the weird position she slept in. I wink at her, and she doesn't respond, just gazing off at the island before going to brush her teeth. Deciding that I hadn't annoyed enough people this morning, I open the connecting door to Mamrie and Grace's room and let the light stream in from my room.

"RISE AND SHINE MOTHERFUCKERS! CABO SAN LUCAS!" I call, trying to feel my way around the dim room. I reach the bed in the middle of the room, climbing over a protesting Grace and wedging myself between them in the very middle of the bed.

"Hart I swear to fucking god..." Mamrie mumbles, her face still in her pillow. I snatch the pillow from her, and run for my life. She glares at me as I blow her a kiss. Grace perks up, realizing that-

"We're going para-sailing! Mames! Get your ass up, we have an excursion in two hours!" she exclaims, bounding up and grabbing clothes for the day.

I smirk at Mamrie, and tell her, "Two hours. Let's go, I want to see turtles from 100 feet in the air."
Mamrie murmurs in agreement, and slowly rises from the bed. I bound back into my room, rummaging through the closet for something to wear.

Twenty minutes later, we all head up to the buffet for breakfast and tea. We eagerly discuss our plans for the day, and we agree to relax on the beach after para-sailing over the ocean. Once we finish eating, we go back to our rooms to get our bags and we head to the gangplank, eager for the day's treasures to unfold.

We're on Deck 3, waiting to depart from the ship and step on to Cabo, when I slap my hand to my forehead.

"Shit!" I exclaim, pissed at myself. 

"What's wrong?" Mamrie asks, "Did you just have a muscle spasm?"

"No! I forgot my notebook in the cabin! Dammit!"

Julie looks at me, perplexed. "Hannah, you're going to be 100 feet in the air...why would you need your notebook?"

"I really want it, I wanted to write on the beach a little. It just helps me express myself. You know what, I'll meet you guys on the pier. I'll be down in five." Julie's mouth opens in protest, thrown off by my determination.

Grace walks over to Julie, closes her mouth, and says, "Sure. We'll meet you. Go get it." 

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"You seemed desperate for that notebook." She says, her serpent eyes flicking up to mine.

"I was." I was as desperate then as I was now, only now I'm desperate to not be here. I was dragged out of my room, like usual, and forced into this room. They even barred the windows, those bastards.

"Why?" She says, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her mahogany desk.

"Listen, I just wanted to write. I discovered writing and fell in love with it."

"Hmm." She mutters, writing furiously into her sketchpad. I stare at her desk, with her gilded nameplate reading "Dr. Isabelle Benner". Behind her, her various degrees from respected colleges are framed perfectly. Dartmouth was her undergraduate, and she attained her medical degree from Stanford, the degree noting that she was salutatorian for her class.

"What?" She asks me roughly, challenging me. I look at her, shocked. Who the hell is she to ask me so rudely?

"Bitter over being second in your class much?" I say, defending myself.

She laughs, standing up with her hands on her desk. "Well, Ms. Hart, I am not bitter at all over being second at Stanford University. Or valedictorian at Dartmouth College, for that matter. If you happen to be questioning whether or not I can properly be your therapist, I can reassure you I am more than qualified." She seethes, her eyes narrowed at me.

I cross my arms across my chest, standing up to meet her level. We stand, locked in power positions, for several minutes. She finally speaks, although she's still standing, immobilizied. 

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Hannah?" She sighs, exasperated.

"I DON'T KNOW!" I shout, exhausted from the shit that life has been handing me.

She lets out a deep breath, drumming her fingers on her desk. 

"Ok. Here's how we'll proceed. We'll meet five times a week. You have your weekends back, you're free to go wherever the hell you want, as long as you have a supervisor with you at all times." she says, bargianing with me.

I nod slowly. "Thank you. That...that helps. But why?" I ask, confused. "Aren't I 'regressing'?"

"Frankly, Hannah, you're exhausting. I understand what happened to you really fucked you over, but you are bitter, you are angry, and you are impossible to deal with. You need to get your ass out there and realize that you're not the only one on Planet Fucking Earth that's hurting. You're broken Hannah. You. Are. Broken. And really, I can't fix you just with these therapy sessions."

Broken. I am broken.

Am I that pathetic?

No. I'm cold to protect myself. I have to be.

That sounded like an excuse, but I brush it away.

She told me I was broken. 

We actually agree on something.

I silently stand up, my eyes fixed on the floor, and walk out the door. I walk all the way to my room, closing the door, and start to sob on my bed.

I was never like this, I used to be full of life, I was kind, optimistic, passionate.

I guess this is what happens when you are broken.