I didn't want this.
I didn't want to change.
I didn't want to go on.
I could have ended my existence many times in all of my lives, but I kept on living for you. For all of you.
Over the centuries I came to believe I was important, that I was a force for good in an often cold and cruel universe. I believed that I mattered. That I was needed.
It would be selfish of me to die and leave the universe unprotected.
But when my time came, my final battle, I welcomed the end and hoped for peace. I had lived twelve lives, and my time was up.
She had other ideas.
My impossible girl.
So I lived once more, for her. A thirteenth lifetime that I thought I had cheated my way out of when I was a different man.
One more life was all I planned to have, all I hoped to have.
I was still humming with regeneration energy in this thirteenth body so I knew a change was possible. But after loosing her, the girl who remains impossible to remember yet impossible to forget, I chose to make this my final life.
I had lived longer than any Timelord should, and far longer than I wanted.
I settled down to a quiet life for a while, but the universe called and I answered.
For a while it was fun. For a moment I reconsidered my choice. But the moment passed.
I was done. And I died.
My choice.
But for a second time my choice to die was taken away from me.
I am reborn. I am remade.
And I am alive.