The Man I Love

That man. That impossible man. The way he swaggers off, back to his TARDIS, looking as if he hasn't a care in the world. In the universe, even. But he does. Always has, always will do. His whole species gone, and only him left. That must hurt a man, knowing you're the only one left. Time simply rolls on for him, never looking back, never looking further than where his next plan will take him. God knows how many of his plans have lead to the safety of others, never once asking for thanks. Never seeing what his work has done. That beautiful man. The way his hair flciks as he moves his head, forming perfect arcs over him. Although old, his eyes glitter with the youth of a 6 year old, never underwhelmed by anything. It's as if stars were born in those eyes. When his eyes light up, his mouth twitches with such joy. Then there's his clothes. Fantastically quirky, just like him. That bowtie. Against his shirt, it sticks out like the jam in a jammie dodger. Oh how he'd love that comparison. I love the way he looks. But we're not just looks, him and I. We're so much more than that. We're mind, body and soul all at once. When we make love, it's as if we're one. One singular mind exploding with the love of 1000 species. I feel him in me, he feels me in him. But I don't feel it anymore. I'm trapped in the datacore of The Library, and I'll never see the man I love again.