Love Letters At Sea: Dispatches From The S.S. OceanBeatz sponsored by MTN DEW KICKSTART
Letter 1. Dated: August 13 2014
My love, my light, my dearest Courtni,
I take the pencil this afternoon to tell you how my soul aches so. The hot Spanish nights here have brought many gifts: good food, high spirits, and four moons each more beautiful than the last (wink emoji), but not once have I been brought that for which I truly yearn: to once again hold you in my arms and tell you time and time again that you are my star. My heart. A fuckin babe. Everyone says.
I pray this letter presently finds you well. My flower, I so regret the circumstances of my departure. Oh, would that I could go back and tell you about my two-week cruise in Ibiza that morning before I jumped into the back of Aidan’s Dodge Ram Daytona and yelled at you to “stay sweet” through the sunroof, but time is not mine to mould. Anyway are you sure I didn’t mention it last week?
Forever Urs.
Letter 2. Dated: August 14 2014
As I write to you now I grow weary. The sun beats mercilessly down on my back. We raised anchor at 11 p.m. this day and the toil has been ceaseless. I have not the energy to give you the particulars of our trip but whatever Steven says happened is probably bullshit. He’s so weird.
Our mission so far can only be considered a success. We have sustained but light losses. It is with a heavy heart I report our first casualty; we had worried Kris passed in the night, but the next morning he had yakked up the worst of it and by the time we got some eggs in him he was good to go again. The kid’s made of goddamn rock.
Earlier at sunset we sailed by a coral reef the beauty of which I have only known matched by your smile. The pastel colors of the sky danced in the water and met the rainbowed rocks beneath, kaleidoscoping into an experience as transcendent as your laugh. You are without competition the most–
gotta go.
Letter 3. Dated: August 16 2014
The days seem endless. I expect we will remain at sea for some time. Though our ranks are hearty of spirit, our bodies grow fatigued. Yet the salt air is good for our minds and bodies, and we’re all like 75% sure we saw Groban on the upper deck a couple hours ago with some honest-to-god tens and we gotta know the score.
Letter 4. Dated: August 21 2014
Sorry I missed your FaceTime calls. The captain has a strict “no home chicks” policy and I’m fearful of my actions landing me in the Bitch Brig. I’m pretty sure he’s not the real captain, but he has a hat.
Oh, my angel, I know it must pain you to hear such things, of course my body trembles for your touch. I so dearly long to whisper my endless devotion to you in the morning light. To run my fingers through your underwear. To once more record you screaming at a Panamanian Uber driver and throw it up on Vine.
But, my beloved, it is in these times a man must face his reality.. Do not wait for me, my love. If that smokeshow with dreads wasn’t just roasting me, I might get a regular slot spinning at CALIGULA on Thursday nights. I came here knowing the hazards involved.
Peace in the Middle East
Letter 5. Dated: August 23 2014
My dreams are etched with burning vistas of our lovemaking. It seems like a lifetime ago. In my rare moments alone I recall it. I still feel your grip, your hot breath on my neck as we entwine as one, oblivious to the world around us, the plot of Fast Five, and those other people who were in the theater.
I must terminate this letter here, my delicate songbird. I fear that if I keep writing, I may never stop, for love courses through my body without respite.
Goodbye for now my goddess, my infinity, my destiny. I take strength knowing that with each passing tide, each cry from the gulls above, each time the big horn sounds signaling a nearby topless beach, I grow ever closer to seeing you again.
Farewell. I cherish you
Sent from my iPhone.
