My Fair Penelope,
I write this letter to you from a faraway land, known to no man or gods. It is one of the newest lands that have beset me on my way back home to Ithaca. Being alone on this island for so many years has made me restless, desiring to leave at any cost. It makes a man remember and reflect. I remember the reason I’m here held prisoner by the one they call Calypso. I stood up and answered to call to arms. You urged me to do so as I hesitated. When I left the shore of Ithaca, I knew nothing would ever be the same and I was right.
They may praise me as the brilliant strategist who found a way to defeat the Trojans after ten long years of a senseless war to win back that Helen from the foolish Paris. They say that there is nothing scarier than a man with a cause. I ended what those fools had started for one reason and one reason only -- to come back to you.
Yet I let my flawed inner nature usurp the best of me. My triumph had led me to think myself above the natural law. To that, I say I am sorry. My humility was lost on that final day at Troy and only now, after so many more years of traversing the waves and storms of the sea, have I only begun to rediscover it. If there is anything I’ve learned from my perilous quest back to Ithaca is that Pride is truly the downfall of man. Pride was what got all of us in this mess called the Trojan War in the first place.
I’ve fought the worst monsters; I’ve seen the loss of my men, I’ve nearly been driven to the brink of madness by the songs of the Sirens and I have braved disasters unparalleled to any man has seen before… but I forget not why I endure. Even so, the struggle within has ripped my heart open and has left me empty. All this time has left me thinking of how I will escape this island and how I will return. I’ve trained my mind to continue to be adept and swift, all the while stuck on this island. I have cursed Poseidon and I have paid for it.
Long have my journeys, my adventures and my campaigns over the course of these years make me a weary man. I am no longer the fierce lion that I was in my youth. I am tired; yet I still have the fight within me to strive to complete my final quest; something that many will remember for generations hereafter.
But this journey is not over. Not yet.
I can only imagine the burden that Time has left on you, alone in the palace that we helped build together, a constant and daily reminder of my long and painful absence. I urge you to remain steadfast day to day and remain strong with the passage of all this lost time. As you sleep in that unmovable bed made from the olive tree, remember this: be the resilient woman that I know you still are that I left on the dock what seems a lifetime ago...for you are worth fighting any war for.
I pray that one day, in this life or the next, that I am able to hold you once more like we used to before I left for war. They say that regardless of the night, a person can always spot the northern star, the anchor for so many mariners when searching for home. Look to that star and know I will follow it home, one way or another; for you are that star that blazes so brightly in the heavens that it keeps even the gods awake at night. I think of you every night before I sleep and as I wake.
I look forward to our reunion, my sunshine, and I can’t wait to see that glorious dawn you always bring with you.
Yours truly,
A Wayward Voyager Named Odysseus