Karate Kiss

Chapter 12 - People from the past can haunt you

I stare at the door and frown as I look around to see if anyone would open it. They're all fucking loud and busy chatting to each other. I hesitate and walk to the door, slowly grabbing the handle and pulling it slightly open. I look around and see the dark, dim lit empty streets. I was about to close the door till I look down and see a letter, with a package but clear at the top, revealing a donut inside of it.

Is this like a joke or some sort of prank from Douche? I bend down and pick it up and not till the writing on the letter comes into focus that I see it isn't for me.

It's for Damian. His name is written in cursive on top of it.

For a minute I thought it was for me but after seeing Damian's name written on the top, it makes me wonder why a random letter and package for him is now currently on my doorstep. I shouldn't read that letter...but as I am a curious bitch and can't keep my nose out of anything I start to read the letter...fuck sake.

"For Damian,

I never thought in all these years of no communication, will I be writing a letter to you. As much as it's hard for you to pick up this letter and read till the end, it's harder for me to write this and put into words what happened. I know I'm the last person you want to hear an explanation from but to every event there is always reasons and stories lurking behind it. At the beginning I always hoped you grew up with both of us, in a loving home, safe environment and be brought up the best we could – but sometimes wishes don't come true, and our hopes can be too high. People from the past can haunt you, ruin your lives and take the people closest to you away from you – me.

I still remember when you were little and how every other day before I left for work you always used to look up at me and asked for some donuts – they were always your favourite from when you were little till you were 10.... You had your father's big chocolate coloured eyes when looking up at me and my heart shaped mouth every time you smiled at us.

You used to tell me that you love me and I wonder what you think that word means. At thirty-seven, I'm still getting a handle on all of the possible interpretations of love, all of the implications and connotations that it might bring with it. I've learned to use the word cautiously, sparingly, oh-so-carefully, because those four innocent letters can be so incredibly loaded with meaning. But you, what did you know about meaning? You didn't know anything, or at least certainly not enough to overthink things the way I do; you just loved me.

And oh God I love you so much. So fucking much. And your father. It pains me so much that I haven't seen him for 10 years, the man I wanted to stay by my side forever.

And I wonder, how on earth do I protect you? How do I keep you safe?

Like some poor, naïve fairytale mother, I'm trying to help you navigate your way through a forest that's by turns enchanted and haunted. The path is familiar, as if I walked it once years ago, but different, too; overgrown and seemingly impassable in some parts, and unexpectedly clear in others. And as we pick our way through the undergrowth, as we do our best not to trip on twisted roots and sharp stones, I try to remember the lessons I've learned from all folktales I used to know.

For example, I won't make the mistake that Sleeping Beauty's parents did when sending out invitations to her christening. Unlike them, I'll be sure to invite the dark fairy godmothers as well as the good ones, because I know that they'll come anyway, slipping in through back doors and lurking in corners where you least expect them. I'll let them give you their murky gifts in broad daylight, so that I can look them in the eye while they do so. Then I'll smile and thank them, recognizing that I have to let life give you the bad as well as the good.