Dear Jenny,
Why did you have to die? Why? You were supposed to have the same DNA as me. WHY DIDN'T YOU REGENERATE?! WHY?! Jenny. Oh Jenny. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry I was so rude to you at first. I just couldn't accept the fact that you were my child. At first I had no parental feelings to you whatsoever. Probably because I had no clue what was going on, and you only knew how to be a soldier and fight. You were like a walking machine/ soldier to me. I couldn't see you as my daughter.
But, then Donna named you Jenny and my guard started slipping. I began to see your smile, your curiosity at the world outside. I saw these traits of me in you. I started to see my other children in you. You don't have any siblings anymore though. They're all gone. Just like Galifrey. I didn't want the same fate to befall you, but you and the universe had other ideas.
Oh Jenny. I wanted to show you that world outside of what you knew. I began to want you to come explore the galaxy with me. It could be the three of us, you, me, and Donna. And then eventually it'd just be you and me. And we'd keep traveling. I'd teach you all about Galifrey and the culture. I could teach you how to fly the TARDIS even. Well, maybe I would. Maybe. If I thought you were ready.
I'm so sorry Jenny. I wish you could come back to me. But I have to move on. That's one of the reasons I travel in the first place. I travel and run. Run away from memories, from the past. Because if it catches up with me for too long, I wouldn't be able to bear it. And so I'm running still.
I love you Jenny.
- The Doctor, A.K.A. Dad.