Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long, I'd forgotten what those even were. I'd been stuck in one place; in a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave. And then I left some Eggos out in the woods, and you came into my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy. Lately, I guess I've been feeling distant from you. Like you're pulling away from me, or something. I miss playing board games every night, making Triple Decker Eggo Extravaganzas at sunrise, watching Westerns together before we doze off.

But I know you're getting older - growing, changing. I guess, if I'm being really honest, that's what scares me. I don't want things to change. So I think that's maybe why I came in here, to stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were. But I know that's naive; that's just now how life works. It's moving, always moving, whether you like it or not.

And yeah, sometimes that's painful. Sometimes it's sad. And sometimes, it's surprising, happy. So, you know what? Keep on growing up, kid. Don't let me stop you. Make mistakes. Learn from them. When life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. The hurt is good. It means you're out of that cave. But please - if you don't mind, for the sake of your poor, old dad - keep the door open three inches.

Imagine the serene beauty of an endless plain of water under a clear morning sky. Cool still air, soundless except for the noise of the ship and the rolling splash of the wake. There's no boundary or obstruction between you and the massive arc of the horizon, where the blue of the sea and the blue of the sky meet. You smell the effervescence of the salty ocean, and breathe in the heavy dense air. Its minimalism is rarely found in nature, and invites you into many thoughts and dreams, both of the past and of the future. Those mornings are the most beautiful things I've ever seen.