There is a leash that runs across space and time. It's as long as there are years, and it stretches to every part of this vast universe. Its length is so incomprehensible that it can never be understood by a human mind. And you know what? I walk along it. To and fro, and to and fro. It's a never ending cycle. Yes, I see something new everyday, but the longer I think about it; the more I realize my life is a circle. Die, regenerate, die, regenerate.
They call it the "gift" of the Time lords. We are able to understand the peculiar way that Time operates. It can be ripped, therefore it is delicate. It can be changed, therefore it is both unpredictable and dangerous. One of my late mentors once told me that Time is our ally, and I would've agreed. Without the concept of Time, we are nothing but normal beings. I even knew that as a child.
Now, of this moment, I think differently. I lied, I don't "walk" the leash; I am attached to it. I am chained to it like a dog is chained. The leash is constant reminder of the people that have died because of me. The people I had to let die when I could've saved them. I killed them, and there's no denying it.
In my traveling, I've seen so many things. I've seen, probably more than anything else, unbelievable happenings and places. In my nine hundred years I've witnessed everything from ghosts to aliens I can hardly start to describe. My eyes have captured the birthing of new and fascinating races, but also the disappearing of them.
Do I enjoy my unceasing traveling? I would be lying if I said I never did, but I have grown tired to say the least. Tired of constantly running from the agenda I made in the Time War, and I would give it all up for the most simple concept in the universe...family. I haven't had such a feeling since Gallifrey was destroyed. I have done so well at callusing myself from becoming too attached to any one person I've met, but recently I failed, and today I'm learning the cost of what it means to care. I wasn't even able to express how I felt for her. The thought that I'll never see her again is killing me; so I'll just keep telling myself the same lie I've repeated since I started out on my own, "I'm always fine."
I am, have been, and will always be the Lonely Traveler.
Eleven held the letter tightly in his hands not knowing what to do with it. He never wanted to see it again. His former self had suffered so greatly. I'm not him, he told himself although he knew it wasn't true. He had said himself "New face, but still the Doctor."
When Eleven looked down he saw the letter was crumbled into a ball. He hadn't been angry very many times, but that was one. He hated himself for writing that letter. What was the point? It definitely wasn't to make his next regeneration feel better about who he was.
Eleven unfolded the sheet of paper once more, and skimmed the words over. At the bottom, he saw one last sentence that he had missed: Please don't make the same mistake I did. You'll only end up hurt.
"What's that?" A voice asked behind him.
The Doctor let his hand that was holding the paper drop to his side, and he turned to face Amy. "Nothing, just a reminder I had written myself earlier." She couldn't have read it since it was written in Gallifreyan.
Amy smiled, "You mean before you regenerated?" He nodded, "How interesting. Can I see?"
"No," he said quicker than he meant to. He saw her look of surprise at his harsh tone, and threw the letter down an opening in the T.A.R.D.I.S floor. "It's not important, just forget it. Now where were we? Oh yeah, the reports about the people going missing at an apartment building in London."
"Doctor," Amy Pond inquired coming up to his side as he set the coordinates of their next destination, "are you alright?"
Eleven flipped a switch and refused to let himself look at his companion, "I'm always fine."