To My Dear Father

Father, you have always wanted me to inherit the family trade and become a tailor.
But I don't want to do that. I want to do something outside of the life plan you laid out for me.
You've always felt that being a treasure hunter is a shameful profession, because they're such a mixed bag of people: destitute refugees who can barely survive, desperate gamblers putting it all on the line—even profit-driven bandits. But Father, among them are also down-and-out scholars devoted to their research, travelers passionate about adventure, and historians who struck out on their own because their funding was denied.
I've learned so much from them. I'm endlessly fascinated by the knowledge I've gained, and I've fallen in love with the sights I see along my journeys.
But I also miss you. I miss seeing your face, and hearing your voice.
Perhaps you think I'm just acting on impulse, completely disregarding the legacy of our family trade—and maybe you as well, as you get older. But I want to say that isn't the case. I just want to choose something I truly love while I'm still young, instead of following the bog-standard, predictable path...