Doctor,

You're never going to survive without me. You won't remember, so you won't realize it at first, but eventually, you're going to be struggling on your own. I think this list I'm leaving for you is pretty affordable, and I've left my bank card for you to use. I won't be using it ever again. So here's what you'll need until you get yourself until you have a new 'carer,' as you would say…

1) Silk Pajamas. I know you think they're 'posh' and that you are too busy to relax. You are wrong and since I'm not there to argue with you, just save yourself the fight and buy them. I recommend maroon - it'll look good on you. I always liked the maroon of your jacket, by the way.

2) Jammy Dodgers. You'll love them. You already know why. Just keep a stash of them on the TARDIS for those low nights when you feel like you can't win – and there will be plenty of those nights, I'm afraid, but you can handle it. All you need is a Jammy Dodger and a good book.

3) A nature sounds album. You can't drive the TARDIS correctly, and so it makes that noise when you land it. That noise will forever be stuck in my head, but I bet it'll take hundreds of years listening to birds chirping and waterfall sounds to take the edge off that it's given you after all this time.

4) A Thermos. Never underestimate the importance of a hot drink on a bad day. You'll probably in the middle of a desert when it hits - when you start feeling shite – one sip will soothe your soul and give you enough strength to move on. Trust me on this, too, because you will need to move on. The Doctor always must.

5) Holiday decorations. You'll spend a few Christmas' alone in your future, I'm sure, and it would be really nice if you could at least make the TARDIS feel festive – it makes the misery a little bit merrier, in a way. Besides, Christmas is your favorite holiday. Get yourself a gift while you're at it, yeah?

6) Duster spray. Have you looked at your keyboard lately? There's so much dust caked on the bloody keys I about didn't want to touch it when I was punching in codes and setting coordinates. And maybe buy a Swiffer too. The floors are grimy and looked kind of dull when I came in to write this letter. Clean the TARDIS up and make it flashy again.

7) Get a recliner. Please, for the love of space and time, sit down and relax, you fool! Besides, you live in the TARDIS. Make it feel like a home rather than a prison. After all, you chose this one – you stole it – so you must love it. Act like it a little!

And, lastly…

8) A Companion.

If you do nothing else, Doctor, get yourself a companion. I'm not saying you have to rush into it, or that you need to go around hunting for one on purpose. People don't come in the 'next, best, and greatest' models. We are flawed, we are imperfect, and we are unpredictable – but that's what you love about us. Humans. All of our wonder and mystery and excitement…

But you'll need someone to stand up to you, to stand beside you, and to guide you when you can't guide yourself. Life takes on a whole new meaning when you live so much of it that you can't even count the years anymore. You can't count anything because the number is so large. Deaths, births, timelines, enemies, victories… It's limitless for you, Doctor, and that is a burden bigger than all of the time and space that you travel.

The thing is – I don't have much time left. I don't mean in my life, not technically, but with you. I'd never say this to your face, never admit it plainly with those deep-set eyes looking straight into my heart, but you should know: my story was worth telling because of you. Nobody's value should ever depend on another, you know better than anyone the truth in this, but you need to know that you made me feel important. And somewhere out there – there's someone waiting for you just like I did. They don't even know it yet. They are out there falling in love with stars they can't touch, yearning for planets they can't see, and hoping for adventures that they can't imagine.

Our roads are finally parting ways. You were my hero, and, sometimes, I think, I hope, that I was yours too. It is heartbreaking to realize so suddenly that when I sign this farewell letter - my name will mean absolutely nothing to you because you won't know who I am. All of the memories we shared belong to just me and it is a burden I'm not sure I can carry alone, but I spent so many years trying to be you – I guess now I know.

Keeping running, my clever boy, because the universe needs you – but don't forget to be good to yourself too. You deserve it more than you realize.

So this is my final goodbye.

I have loved, do love, and will love you, Doctor.

Forever & Always.

Clara