And… in a perfect world, you’d be with me.
I have a spread of all the Polaroids I took for you laying across the table in front of me, and I can’t help but wish you had been a part of each of those special moments.
Like the one to my left, for example.
It’s a picture of my father standing in my doorway the day before Christmas, one hand filled with hydrangeas (my favorite flower), and the other with a small suitcase.
He nearly laughed his ass off when I insisted that he hold that pose long enough so I could grab the camera and get a picture so I could share it with you.
I love sharing moments like those with you.
Like the one to my right of me that my dad took while I was learning how to braid crosses out of palm fronds with a local artist downtown. I must have sat there for hours with him, braiding and handing them out with Dad to the locals strolling along the pier on Christmas day.
Or like the one directly in front that Mike took of my dad and me sitting at the bow of the boat with the glorious sun setting behind us and a fish strung up in each hand. I was able to take my dad out on one of Mike’s charters and show him everything I’ve learned in the past four months.
Five months.
Can you believe it’s been that long since I’ve seen you in the flesh? (By the way, please tell Ed thank you for that lovely photo of the Christmas tree he built out of beer cans. It was a talented feat and a beauty that I’m sure drove you nuts.)
Hehehe.
With my dad showing up, I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas present. (Well, other than you showing up… which, I must admit, I did perk up every time I heard footsteps, hoping maybe it was you.)
Anyway, my dad left this morning, so I’m feeling just a tad bit on the blue side. I’ve never been good with goodbyes. The next time I see him probably won’t be until my birthday in a couple of months, or maybe even not until this summer. Whenever I can get the time, I need to make it back home. Dad says the fish miss me.
I think he’s just lonely.
Did you tell your mother and Sophia yet? I know in your last letter you said you were going to bring it up before you left your mom’s house. I’m dying to know how that went.
I know I said it in my last letter to you that I was proud of you for finally standing up for yourself and what you want, but I need to say it again. This is huge for you. Marrying someone you don’t love, no matter what the circumstances are, is never the answer. You’d be subjecting yourself to a life of hell.
There’s no job in the world worth sacrificing your own happiness for.
Anyway, I think I’m going to go look at a couple of boats Mike was telling me about. I still haven’t found the one that will accompany me on my journey. It has to be perfect, just like my Jeep.
As always, I’ll be thinking of you.
Maggie.
February 18, 2015
Hoops,
Happy Birthday! At least I hope this letter makes it to you on your birthday.
And what a day to celebrate… the day my pen pal soul mate was born. Now before you get upset with me about your birthday present, let me explain. And if you haven’t opened it yet, can you do it now? Don’t worry, I’ll wait…..
See, nothing too extravagant! Just a little something to keep in your pocket when you take your first maiden voyage on your own boat. I know it’s not a real compass, only a medallion. My thought was that if your thoughts are ever running off course, all you’ll need to do it take it out of your pocket and hold it in your hand. Think about what you really want, and it will guide you.
I couldn’t help but purchase it as soon as I saw it, so I really hope you like it!
Ed also wanted me to wish you a Happy Birthday from him. He also said to tell you that you don’t look a day older than you did yesterday, but to always remember to wear sunblock. He learned the hard way with that if you remember me telling you about the day he pulled his sheet off the bed, deciding he’d take a nap out on the lawn. He’s never made that mistake again. I’m telling you, Maggie, he went from having the complexion of chalk to looking like a cooked lobster!
All joking aside, I hope you’re taking care of yourself, but having fun at the same time. I wish I were there with you, soaking up the sun and all the amazing culture you write about. It gets a bit stuffy with my nose in the books most days and in mind-numbing lectures on others. My choice… I know. I do want this though. The education and knowledge I’m gaining will only help me in my future endeavors.
Speaking of my future. There is still no word back from Mother. I’ve tried calling her again a few days ago to talk to her about breaking off the wedding. It’s as if the woman has some sort of ability to read my mind, and she is avoiding me at all costs. I mean, would it hurt her to call me back? What if I’d been in an accident or something? If it were me not calling her back, she’d be at my door with that one eyebrow of hers hiked up, wearing a pursed-lip frown of disappointment.
Don’t tell anyone this, but I think my mother’s the reason ‘duck lips’ came into fashion. I can remember her making that face from as far back as I remember. I wish someone would have told her how ridiculous it looked.
Anyway… so I’m still stuck in limbo over the whole Sophia thing. Which I’m sure you don’t want to hear. The good news is that I haven’t heard from her either. There’s always a positive in every negative situation, if you care to look for it. I just find it odd that I’ve not only left voicemails, but actual messages with our butler, and still no phone call back!
I’m coming to the conclusion that I’ll have to make a weekend trip home soon to talk to them face to face. It’s probably for the best if I do it that way. I’ll let you know how it goes.
I better wrap this up, so I can get it mailed out to you today before I head for class.
I can’t wait to hear all about your birthday!
Talk to you soon,
Always yours,
Phillip
February 23, 2015
Phillip,
If I could kiss you right now, I totally would. A complete knock-your-socks-off, make-the-world-spin-off-its-axis kind of kiss. (Are you blushing yet?)
Saying thank you just doesn’t feel like enough for the compass and the thought you put behind it. So I’ll say it in every language I know:
Thank you-Gracias-Danke-Merci-grazie… okay, I’m running out of languages. Hehehe.
Seriously though, it was definitely the coolest gift ever. I put a picture in of me holding it next to my other birthday present (of which I gave to myself). Have you looked yet? If you haven’t, look now!
I bought a boat!
Isn’t she a beauty?
I’m naming her Freedom. She’s a 90’s J34c, and the price was practically a steal. The guy was moving up in size, so he was ready to sell. She’s not too big and not too small. Easy driven hulls and minimal overlapping on the headsails.
I can’t wait to get her in the water!
Mike suggests I take apart the engine and learn everything about it before I do though. I agree with him. If I’m going to go on a long journey, then I’ll need to know the ins and outs of this beauty.
I’m still slightly in shock that I actually bought her. I mean, believing in a dream is one thing… but actually seeing it come to fruition is certainly another. I’m so close to being able to take the journey I’ve dreamed about for so long now.
Oh, and there’s just room enough for me and a few others to sleep comfortably, so if you ever need an escape plan from your mother or Sophia, I’ve got you covered.
Speaking of which, that is odd that neither of them are answering. Maybe you’re right. Maybe they are avoiding the inevitable. I know you said you’re in limbo over your decision, but I’m holding out hope for you, Phillip. I know you’ll make the right choice—the best choice for yourself.
You work so hard to make others happy, even above yourself. You deserve some of your own happiness in your life. Don’t worry about
what others want… even me. Do what you feel in your heart is right for you.
Please tell Ed I said thank you for the birthday wishes, and also, welcome to the sun. Fresh aloe is the best way to go for burns like what you described.
I can’t wait to hear back from you. My shoebox I keep with your name written all over it is now full, so I’ve decided to upgrade her to a small hope chest I picked up at the thrift store I go to.
I thought it was fitting, don’t you?
Love always,
Captain Maggie
May 18th, 2015
Ahoy, Captain Maggie!
I dreamt of you last night. You were standing behind the wheel of your boat, head tilted back at the sky with the biggest smile on your face as you looked up at the billowing sails. I wrapped my arms around you, feeling the swell of the waves rise and fall under the deck at our feet. You moved my hands to the wheel and turned in my arms, wrapping yours around my neck as you said to me, “Isn’t it freeing?”
I wish there were more to the dream than that. There might have been, had my alarm not woken me up and allowed reality to separate us, if only in sleep. It was the most vivid dream too, Maggie. The sky was painted with the most beautiful oranges and reds of a blazing sunset. The light breeze lifted your hair, streaking it with the waning sunlight, making the tips look like they were on fire.
I guess that’s what I get for reading your last letter for the hundredth time before I fell asleep.
I wish I were there with you—could be there with you when you set sail on your adventure of a lifetime. I wait anxiously for a copy of your sailing itinerary, so I can see all the ports you’re planning on stopping at. I just wish you weren’t doing it alone. My heart clenches thinking of you by yourself on the open water. There are so many things that can go wrong, and I’d be devastated if something were to happen to you.
I don’t say all of that to try to sway you from your plans. I only say it so that you know just how much you mean to me. You’re my best friend, my soul mate, my everything, and thinking of a world without you in it makes me lose my breath. My heart races and I have to push my hand against it until it slows, telling myself I’m worrying over something that hasn’t happened. Won’t happen. Sounds crazy, right? But there it is, nonetheless.
Don’t mind me; I’m in a bit of a bleak spot in my life right now.
I met with Father’s lawyer the other day. A meeting Father requested by having his lawyer email me the date and time I was to be available. I wasn’t sure what to expect because I’ve never been summoned to Father’s lawyer’s office before.
He called me in to tell me I’ve been allotted a small portion of my trust fund.
I wanted to laugh in his face when he presented the stipulations I needed to follow in order to gain access to my entire trust fund. I won’t bore you with the legal jargon, but it came down to this… so long as I marry Sophia at the selected date of her choosing, and purchase only things that will enhance my impeccable standing of the family name, then I will be granted full access a year after the wedding.
Immediately, I took my allotted portion and invested it with a well-known stock broker. My parents didn’t raise a fool, at least in that aspect. And the investments will payout quarterly, so I’ll have money coming in that I don’t have to follow any ridiculous stipulations laid out to keep. It’ll be enough to live off, so the well-thought-out manipulations backfired on them. They just don’t know it yet.
Although, I do have the strongest feeling it wasn’t Father’s list of stipulations, but Mother’s instead.
I want to feel guilty over knowing I won’t fulfill my end of the bargain, but I find I can’t. Not with the way I feel like I’m being handled. Does this make me a bad person? If it seems that way, trust me when I say that’s not my intention at all. I just refuse to be forced around like some five-year-old boy who doesn’t have the way of it yet.
They keep trying to shove Sophia in my path and, no matter how many times or how many ways I express my dislike for her, they just don’t seem to get it. They think they can buy me, but they don’t understand that their money isn’t going to buy my future.
Sitting across from the lawyer, hearing my life paved out in dollar signs, it finally clicked... what you wrote on my arm that day at the lighthouse.
Be free.
I am free, Maggie. So free that I want to shout it at the sky. I’m free to be what I want. Do what I want, when I want, and how I want it. I’ve never felt so liberated. Never felt so… excited for what’s to come in my life.
So I propose this…
Meet me at the edge of summer, when the winds of change are sweeping against the coastline of Rum Cay. I’ll be the guy anxiously awaiting you on the docks when you sail in on the tide.
Always yours,
Phillip
May 23rd, 2015
Phillip,
That’s amazing news!
And heck yeah, I’ll meet you anywhere any time. You name it, I’m there. This news couldn’t have come at a better time, because I’ve finally reached the goal for what I wanted to have saved up for my trip. Working the charter and earning the tips I’ve made has really helped speed up the process.
That being said, I also enclosed what you mentioned in your previous letter—the sailing itinerary. It’s rough because like the seas, I may change my mind on where I stop and how long I stay there. Just know I’ll be on that dock at the edge of summer.
I’ll be leaving tomorrow. I’m packing the last of my stuff right now. I just took a break so I could write to you. I’m going to drive the old Jeep down to a port in Miami, boat tethered to the back, and then begin my journey, starting with the Bimini Islands, and then making my way toward the Bahamas. From there, I’ll probably drift from port to port, coming and going where the wind takes me.
My last stop before I head back home will be Rum Cay.
My goal is to soak up as much culture about every port I stop at. I want to meet the people, maybe even work a small job or two… really learn more about the places in this world, before I finally find that one special place I can lay roots in and settle down.
Which I doubt will be for a while.
My legs grow too restless as it is. I think the only thing that’s kept me here at this job with Mike is the fact that I’m on the water every day and constantly meeting new people.
But the sea is calling to me.
And I don’t want you to worry too much about me. Every time I stop, I’ll be sure to send you a postcard. When I decide to stay put for a while, I’ll send you a letter so you’ll know how to get in touch with me.
I wanted to tell you that your dream sounds absolutely beautiful. The way you write in your letters always sweeps me away to a world I hope we can both share one day. A world we may just be sharing, if all goes well and you’re on that dock at the edge of this summer.
But enough about me. That’s crazy about the trust fund. Who puts stipulations like that on it? Well, I suppose your mother… though I can’t dislike her too much. I’m sure deep down she’s just doing what she thinks is best for you… even if it isn’t.
I’m sure Sophia is going to shit bricks when she finds out you’re not going to marry her. I’d pay money to see the look on her face.
I know… what a mean thing to say.
I shouldn’t be so cruel. I just… my stomach churns when I think of you ending up with her. Isn’t that awful? But it’s the truth. I don’t know… I just… I can’t see you loving her. I can’t see her making you happy either. Not the kind of happy that I know you deserve.
And here I am rambling on like a jealous schoolgirl.
Anyway, I miss you. I almost want to take back the no-phone-call clause, because I fear the voice that I still think I know in my head that’s yours, might be something entirely different-sounding now. It’s been so long; almost a year since I last heard it.
I don’t take back these letters though. I’ve come to know you on a level I don’t think I�
��ve ever known anyone before. A mental friendship can be so much deeper than a physical one. There are no secrets here. No hiding ourselves.
It’s just you and me.
Love always,
Maggie
July 2, 2015
Captain Maggie,
I just got your postcard from the Great Harbour Cay. It has a spot of honor on my corkboard directly behind my laptop with all the rest you’ve sent me, and I find myself staring more at that board than the paper I have due next week for economics. It’s hard to keep focus on writing about financial statistics of Internet marketing vs. telecommunications marketing when all I can see is the beautiful places you’ve been.
Just yesterday I found myself jarred back to reality when Ed came in with pizza and broke my trance, asking me when I planned on packing up and heading out to see you since it’s summer.
Sometimes, I want to kick myself for signing up for summer classes.
But, thankfully, Ed decided to join me for the summer. Turns out, I’ve made an impression on him as well. Because he had to drop a few classes from not applying himself enough, he decided to re-take them during the summer so he’ll be back on track come fall.
Watching everyone pack their things and head out for the summer was the only plus side to this. The halls are like a ghost town. No parties. No bickering. Just peace and quiet.
Your postcards are our only form of entertainment now. We both laughed about it, but the brutal honesty of it is, I’ve found myself starting out to to come see you so many times I’ve lost count.
Now even more so since the fiasco I went through last weekend.
Mother showed up at my dorm with Sophia in tow. They refused to leave until I caved in to go to lunch with them. I should have known better. I really should have. By the time I realized what they’d schemed, I was already in the car with no chance of escape but for opening the door and bailing out along FDR Drive. Thoughts of being run over kept me from actually doing it.
Love Always, Page 16
