Come Sail Away- Day 6

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BOOP BOOP!

Personal Story: So my cousin was telling me a story about what had happened to her, and she told me this random girl walked up to her and said "Oh, I'm going to tell you a joke that'll make you laugh so hard your boobs will fall off...oh wait, looks like they already did..." and she looked so sad at the dinner table. Guess what I did? I LAUGHED MY BOOBS OFF.

Quote: "Let our New Year's resolution be this: we will be there for one another as fellow members of humanity, in the finest sense of the word."- Goran Persson

Advice: Be your own superhero.

Fun Fact: The human brain can read 1,000 words per minute... Educational!!

Let's get back to the story.

HANNAH'S POV

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"Puerto Vallarta! Puerto Vallarta!" Julie cheers, shaking me awake. My arms ache as I stretch, and I jump out of bed, pleasantly surprised at her excitement.

"Damn, someone's excited," I say, giving her a sleepy smile before changing into my button-down shirt.

"Of course I am, Hannah! We are swimming with freaking dolphins. DOLPHINS. DOL-" She continues, before I put my finger to her lips.

"Yes. Dolphins. We should get ready."

"What about Grace and Mames?"

"They're doing the city tour instead. They said they wanted to give us 'alone time'" I utter, rolling my eyes.

"Cool," Julie says, running her hands down to my hips. We stand there, staring at the ocean rolling past us.

"We should, uh, get ready," Julie says, finally breaking the moment.

"Yeah, you're right. Want to meet in the dining room once you're ready?" I ask, putting on my sneakers.

"Sure. Where are you going?"

"Promenade. I feel like walking," I say, dramatically power walking out of the room. I smile as I hear her laughter filling the quiet hallway.

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"You seemed like a good girlfriend." She says, fiddling with her rings as she delivers her compliment.

"I tried. I've always fucked up during my life, I wanted my relationships to be different. You know?" I reply, trying to get her to understand me. She nods at me.

"Before Dartmouth I fucked everything up."

"You got into an Ivy League school, how bad could you have screwed up?" I ask, curious.

"I stole money from family, I isolated myself from my friends. I turned to drugs, desperate to take away some of the stresses I had been dealt. Heroin, Mary Jane, coke, ecstasy, you name it, I've done it. My parents forced me into rehab, scared out of their minds for me. I almost got my acceptance from Dartmouth taken away. My scholarship, the financial aid I needed, could have vanished in front of my bloodshot eyes."

I sit there, not believing what I had heard. Gray eyes, a drug addict? Noooo... She seemed so uptight, so straight-laced, so responsible.

"So you chose to be a therapist so that...?"

"So that my patients could understand I know why they need me, and, in a way, to pay back to the therapy world. It helped me survive and become who I am, I at least owe them one. So I chose to help others that were troubled. It's not easy, but it's rewarding."

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