Shore Of Hearts

A Spilt Cup

I began to get back on my feet, re establishing my place in the business industry. But instead of regaining all the popularity I had before I started to lose all my customers. Very quickly, I went broke. Not many people would buy fish fresh from the market as many tourists had come around and opened local food shops for people to buy from. Nobody had the time to cook for themselves with the rush of business going on. I could feel myself losing it. Breaking out into cold sweats during the hot summer day while I stood for 8-10 hours at a usually empty stand. 

I started to realize that if I did not find a way to get income soon I would no longer be able to pay for my fathers boat, and my house. I would be the first homeless in my town. I would have had absolutely nowhere to go. The women had moved into a home for the elder, and the friends I have made at the start of my business were temporary. 

Slowly I gave up.

I watched as you, Marie would walk by my empty stand everyday. Almost like a taunt right in my face. Back then, I thought you felt no empathy towards me or anyone. To me you were a cold blooded monster who took the role that I was supposed to live up to. I was outraged, how could people adore some random foreigner over an actual local tour? Now that I think about it my ship was quite wrecked as it had been going to sea for many, many years. But I would make myself believe that my ship was history, and people were stupid for not wanting to see it. Your ship, my love was brand new. The wood still fresh, filling the air with its scent. 

Despite how much hatred I had towards you, I never hated the smell of your boat. Feeling it in the air made me feel like a little girl once more, boarding the ship my father had spent his life working for. The ship that now reeked of seaweed and had barnacles that wrapped around each curve. Perhaps that's how it looked to my customers but to me it was home. The smell of your ship made me relive that feeling once more.

But I still couldn't help but hate you. I hated you so much the hatred would eat me alive on those sleepless nights as I pondered what could've been. I had been absolutely sure back then that you hated me just as much. On days where I had barely gotten enough sleep the night previous you'd laugh walking by my stall as I took brief naps. And on days where I had no time to put myself together I could feel the cold presence of your smirk upon seeing me. 

Soon I could no longer put myself together at all.

I fell into an immense depression, staying in my room days at a time. The thought of losing everything with no one to go to absolutely destroyed me. I had always told people I fear nothing but as I began to process the seriousness of the matter I learned to fear 

everything.

After having no income for weeks on end I was evicted from my house. I had not eaten a full meal in days and I remember simply being extremely fatigued. I carried what I had left to remember my past over to my boat in the pouring rain. As I laid there, aimlessly staring at the ceiling I clung to the pictures of my father and held them closest to my heart. Knowing that if he were to see me like this he'd pick me up and get me back on my feet. I knew that if he was here this situation would have never happened in the first place. That night was the last night I would ever be seen in my hometown. I shivered all the way down my spine; feeling the cold rain soak into the only clothes I had left. I could feel myself cry but my body so weak my eyes were unable to even tear.  I had never been so miserable in my life. 

And for the first time in awhile I finally closed my eyes and let myself sleep. Praying that once I woke up everything would be okay. My dad would still be here, my house, my business. 

I had no idea that falling asleep would be the best and worst decision of my life.

I'm sorry Marie.