Dear Dad,

I know, this is new. But what better way to stay in touch? Texts are so impersonal, postcards too short. If you want to reply, you know my email even if you don't know my current physical address.

I wanted to thank you for not trying to stop me from continuing this journey. I know you may not understand my reasons for leaving, or staying away for so long, but your support, or at least the lack of disapproval means the world to me.

We are both struggling, and I don't want you to think I've just left you hanging in the worst months of your life.

Maybe this will make up for my selfishness just a little.

Maybe this will take a little of the pain out of your life and replace with a bit of my love. I hope so. I know when I look back on our conversation in Silverthorne I believe you love me. I only hope you know I love you too.

I usually write a letter to Mom once a week. Don't worry, I'm not crazy. But I do think it might be better for me to write to you sometimes as well. I'm trying to learn to work toward the future instead of dwelling in the past.

That said, I hope you've been doing well. I hope you've been eating three meals a day and showering at least four times a week. I hope you're allowing yourself to grieve while still finding new things to bring you a level of peace.

I've been struggling for a little while. Nothing for you to be concerned about, but still, struggling.

Do you remember reading me Tom Sawyer as a kid? I finally got up the energy yesterday, and visited Mark Twain's childhood home. I know you would love to see this, and I have an idea fermenting in my head that maybe you could fly to meet me somewhere out here and we could spend some time together exploring.

Let me know what you think. It might be hard for you to get the time off work, and I don't want to cause you any hardships, so please feel free so say no, just know that I wish you were here, taking at least part of this trip with me.

I love you, Dad. I hope you know just how much you mean to me regardless of the distance between us.

Love,

Bo.

It's weird not putting this letter in the shoe box. I had to go to the store and get a book of stamps just so I could send it.

Also, I think it's a bit misleading to call them books of stamps when they're just a single double sided sheet. Not exactly honest marketing.

Still, this “book” should last me for several months of writing letters to Dad. It's not like I'll send him one every week.

I don't know whether or not to expect him to answer. An email is easier than a letter, but he'll still have to sit down and write, be intentional about contact with me. And the idea of him coming and traveling with me even for a little bit is laughable.

I know he loves me, but he doesn't really do the whole “Leaving his comfort zone” thing. It's probably one of the reasons him and Mom didn't last.

She had the most adventurous of spirits. It took everything she had to settle down long enough to raise me, and every time I called her for the last year she was counting down the days to my graduation when we would finally be able to break free and explore to our heart's content.

I get my wanderlust from her, my steadiness from Dad. Not that I've been that steady in the last little while. But even the firmly rooted among us have to break free sometimes, otherwise we would grow stagnant and our roots would begin to rot.

I'm sure that's horticulturally sound.

Speaking of horticulture, I've spent most of the last week at the Botanical Gardens in Des Moines. There's something very peaceful about wandering among what's left of the greenery.

There's also a small wooden bridge over a stream, and I've been dropping twigs on one side and watching them float out the other just like I did as a child.

It's times like these when I realize I'm not half the adventurer Mom was. She would have been so bored going back to the same place even twice. We would have already been moving on to the aquarium rather than coming back to the botanical gardens.

I suppose I have yet to strike a balance between appreciating beauty and adventuring.

Speaking of adventuring, Jasper told me he's going on a fishing trip with his uncle and he will be gone for a few days. They're going out deep sea fishing. I guess it's a family tradition.

It's weird how much I miss his texts. We've only been talking a little over a week and I feel like my isolation is giving my brain mixed signals.

I need to think casual. It's crazy to think someone like Jasper would actually want anything serious to do with me, and even if that's not crazy, it's crazy to miss him this much after only eight days of talking.

If I'm going to fall, let it be spectacular. But also, I want to be smart this time. No more Neils for me. Must make good decisions when it comes to boys.