When that call comes in, it’s not about clocking hours—it’s about someone’s life depending on me, and that makes every swim, every lift, every grueling workout worth it. And yeah, it’s tough, but it’s the good kind of tough that makes you proud to collapse into bed knowing you did something that actually mattered.
This job made me realize the love I chased for so long from my parents wasn’t really needed. It’s not love I need to thrive; it’s appreciation, and here I am, appreciated. Are you appreciated atwork? Maybe go somewhere where you are, and the load will feel less heavy?
The problem with that is I find myself working more than I’m needed, always chasing the validation I’m given. It’s like a drug, Hales, and I’m addicted. It definitely doesn’t give me time for much, but it fuels my soul in a way nothing ever has before.
Well, this turned sad, didn’t it? How about another joke?
What’s a race that is never run?
Think about it.
Don’t look.
Think about it.
Ok, now.
A swimming race.
Funny? Maybe not, but my dad wasn’t one for dad jokes, so I had to learn them myself.
It’s about to be busy season. The closer it gets to warmer weather, the more tourists come and the more we have to go rescue them. So, if you don’t hear from me frequently, that’s why.
I was also thinking about sharing something special with you, more than what I’ve already shared, that is. I don’t usually talk to people about anything important, and I just gave you my whole life story within these pages. I hope you don’t sell them for profit or anything one day when I’m a hero.
If I share more secrets with you, can you keep them safe? Can you be my treasure chest, Hailey?
I’m going to assume your answer is yes and tell you anyway.
I only wear fuzzy socks. I don’t like the texture of the rest of them. Another point for loving Alaska—my feet aren’t sweating when I’m wearing miniature sweaters on them.
With kindness,
Ash
JUNE, 2028
Dear Asher:
Time is a figment of the imagination, because there’s no way it’s been six months since I last saw you. I don’t know if it’s because I reread your letters over and over again to feel close to you or the fact that I stalk your social media to see what you’re up to. I’m such a loser, aren’t I? Finding comfort in a man a bazillion miles away from me who jumps into ice cold waters for a living and who I’m definitely not dating.
I’ve loved all your little random facts; have I told you that before? I swear, I’m losing my mind lately. I can’t remember day from night or right from wrong. I’m so tired all the time, I’m afraid I’ll make a mistake somewhere, especially at work. So forgive me if I’ve said that before.
Update on me. I got one of those new phones with the hologram, and I feel very Zenon-like. I kind of wish cars flew by now, but I’ll take cool phones in their place.
Nicole, my baby sister who organizes the gala, is getting married, and I’m so excited for her. She’s joining the rest of them in the married-before-thirty club. And then, there’s me, the oldest,still childless and single. I guess at this point, it’s comical. I should just cut my losses and find a different dream.
Thank you for the jokes. They’ve been great, especially on days when I’m struggling to find some joy. I’ll share it with the kids at work—they’ll love it. Some days, I laugh at myself over the fact that my closest friendship is with you, and I don’t even know your favorite song or why you love swimming so much.
I have a joke today. I farted at work.
Yup, you read that right.
I farted.
A big, loud fart.
Why? Well, there was a little nine year old crying over missing her sibling, who was in surgery, and I didn’t know what else to do. She laughed and then I laughed, and all was fine.
