Dear Sebastian

The Education of Sebastian – Bonus chapter

Dear SebastianDear Sebastian

Sebastian’s Letter to His Seventeen Year Old Self

The kids had all gone to Atash’s for the afternoon, so me and Caro were having some quality mom and dad time—in bed.

I rolled onto my back panting, thinking that there was no fucking workout in the whole world that beat making love with my girl.

“Oh my God! I’m exhausted,” she mumbled, her arm flopping like a wet fish as it slapped down on my chest.

“Told you that Pilates class was a waste of time,” I said. “You don’t need that when you got me.”

“I don’t even have to open my eyes to know that you’re looking very smug right now,” Caro huffed.

“You know it, baby.”

I rolled onto my hip and stroked my hand down between her breasts, feeling my dick twitch as I enjoyed the heavy fullness and hard nipples.

“Don’t even think about it,” she groaned. “I’m done.”

I laughed lightly. I could always go again when it came to Caro, but I settled for kissing her and sucking her tits gently. They were still in great shape, despite breastfeeding two of our babies.

She sighed, a soft smile on her face as I pulled her into my arms.

“Did you ever think we’d get here?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She paused. “That’s it? Just ‘yeah’?”

“Sure, baby. It was always you for me. I knew we’d get here one day.”

She shook her head.

“You were always so sure, despite everything. If you could write a letter to your seventeen-year-old self, what would you say?”

I snorted.

“What kind of question is that?”

She looked up at me and rolled her eyes.

“Just pretend for a moment that you do introspection, Hunter. Go on, what would you say to him? What would you write?”

Caro loved these fuckin’ stupid questions. Maybe it was the journalist in her.

“Jeez, I don’t know! ‘Dear Loser … keep your muzzle dry and never fuck without a condom … unless it’s Caro, in which case…’”

Caro pinched my waist and tried to tickle me.

“I’m being serious, Sebastian! What would you say to him?”

“I’d say, ‘Kiss her till she stops talking’.”

So I did.

But later on that evening, when the kids were bathed and tucked in bed, and Caro was writing on her laptop and I was fixing a ding in Marco’s surfboard, I thought again about what she’d said. What advice would I give to my seventeen-year-old self? What would I say that would help me through the dark days, the ten long years when Caro wasn’t in my life? I’d held faith for three years, right up to my 21st birthday before I’d given up and realized that she wasn’t coming for me, that she hadn’t waited like she’d promised.

I’d long ago forgiven her for that, and tried to forgive myself for the bitterness I’d felt as a result. Is there anything I could have said that would have made it better?

I imagined writing a letter, putting into words something that might have made it easier. Something that I might have believed…

Hey kid,

I know it’s tough and you’ve got a shitty mountain to climb, but it won’t always be like this. I know what it’s like to love a woman hard, and the punch in the gut when you realize that she’s not in your life anymore.

It’s fuckin’ grim, and no one will ever be able to tell you otherwise.

Just follow your instincts. Remember that she was the biggest part of your life, and that she made you the man you are, the man you’ll be. That’s not something to regret. The love you shared was real, and that’s a fuck-ton more than most suckers ever get.

So you’re feeling sorry for yourself? Big boo-hoo. You’ll get over it.

Be the best fuckin’ Marine that you can be: keep your muzzle dry, your reactions fast, your brain cool, and your memories warm.

‘Cause you know what, kid? I have a feeling that Lady Luck ain’t the bitch that you think she is.

Hang loose,

Your buddy, Seb.

Yeah, that’s what I’d tell my younger self. Because despite everything, I am the luckiest mofo that ever lived.