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It has been 20 years since we last spoke, so excuse me if I sound too formal, or I say stuff that a five year old has no business saying. That’s when you saw me last. I have grown. I am 25 now. A big girl.
I am happy to see you have moved on from us and have a happy family. I also hope you are as good of a dad to them, as you were to me, but I also hope you don’t leave them like you left me. Sorry if that was harsh, but it’s the truth.
Talking about leaving, I have a few things to ask. Please don’t be alarmed, I just want to know why.
We had such a fun time together, and then you were gone overnight.
Why?
Christine, my mother, you must remember her, says it was my fault. That I was too bad of a daughter for you to stick around for. That I was too much and that I needed too much. But, what does a five year old kid need? Some love and attention, and maybe someone to do a tea party with her, now and then. And as much as I remember, you loved those.
So why?
Why did you leave?
Why leave me behind with her? I didn’t deserve that.
Why never contact me?
Why wasn’t I good enough?
Lots of love,
Ronan Robinson
P.S. I never wanted to change the surname, I hope you don’t mind.
She looks at me, her eyes full of pride. She is doing this for herself, and my heart swells with something unfamiliar as I’m watching her.
“Do you think I went overboard?”
“A little, maybe, but I think you have the right to sound mad.” I reply.
“Good. Because I don’t want to change a single word of it. This is how I am, this is who I am, and that’s okay.”
She leans into me, and goes over the e-mail one more time before clickingsend. She cries whilst reading her questions out loud, as if she feels the answer will hurt more than what she already thinks.
We shower together, taking our time. She turns her back to me, and I wash her beautiful hair. She foams up my chest, and I do the same to her, being careful with her piercings. We don’t want to rip them off with a loofah.
Ronan pushes me under the showerhead and gently kisses my neck.
“You’ve had a hard day, baby.” I say, trying to look into her eyes, not wanting to be selfish and take her body when she feels vulnerable.
“I did, but I need to feel something else now. Please,” she begs, desperation lacing her voice.
I lift her out of the shower and carry her to my bedroom. She kisses me hungrily, needy, not stopping even once, as if it will break the spell.
“Please, Noah, please. I need to feel some love,” she whispers against my lips, and her words startle me. Does she know I love her? Did I tell her in my sleep?
“I would do anything for you.”
I lift her hips slightly, positioning myself at her entrance. She holds my eyes and nods. I push into her slowly, and she wraps her legs around me. We rock our hips in unison, our hair getting tangled together, as moans and grunts fill the room. We are all limbs and kisses, yet I’ve never felt such a strong hold onto my soul. This thing between us right now, it’s not just sex. It’s not just fucking. It’s love, pain and everything in between that gives us life.
“I need you, Noah,” she says and I feel her clamping around me, getting to her high.
“Imašme. Imašme od prvog dana. Imašme godinama.” I tell her, filling her up with mine.
***
