But then... you turned around and put your pole back in. And I understood... you haven't fished in a while. You came out all this way to fish...why stop at the first big catch. And I knew how special I was to you, so I wasn't worried.
So, you started to catch other fish. You would pull them up onto your boat and spend a little time with them, but always threw them back. A few slipped off your hook, and I could tell that really upset you. I was there though, and I knew I could make you feel better. Every once and a while you would throw some water on me, so I knew you knew I was still there for you. And I knew you would eventually put the pole down and give me the attention I needed for being your perfect catch.
I slowly started dying on the deck of your boat, and really started needing that water you threw at me. I started to worry that I would never get that celebratory photo and attention for being the catch of the day... catch of a lifetime...that I felt I so deserved. I even thought, maybe I should make my way back into the water. I needed the water. But I didn't move. I knew in my heart, that any moment you would turn towards me and realize you were a fool for continuing to fish when I was right there. So, I waited.
I finally realized I could no longer sit on your deck dying slowly in the sun while you continued to fish. I had to get off your boat and go be the 100 lb. Marlin for someone else.
Maybe I was never the 100 pound Marlin. Maybe I was only a small feeder fish you use to catch the bigger one. Or... Maybe I jumped onto your boat. Or I was just floating at the top of the water... waiting to be picked out of the water so easily?
I don't know.
But I do know I felt like that 100 lb. Marlin for you, which is why it hurt so much.
The question is not, was I the 100 lb. Marlin or not, it is why am I not the fisherman?