She still sees him as the man in the moon, her superior and her god. He is her raggedy man and whilst it was sweet and quaint and touching it frustrates him to no end, what he wants most from Amy is to be her equal. Because she is as excellent, and as amazing, and every bit as glorious as him and she doesn't even know it.
He has lived for so many years and some of them seemed to have lasted centuries, other years could have possibly lasted minutes. Every second with Amy Pond seems to be an infinity in itself as time slows right down and he looks at her face and he smiles. He sees the way she lifts her finger up to touch a flower on another world, and how she pokes and prods things like a child and an adult all at once; because she has that curiosity, always wanting to know more.
He sees the way her red hair flows and flies everywhere when she leans her head back and she laughs, she laughs at him, and Rory and anything that sparks her interest. And nearly everything does.
Oh but when she cries. It is all he can do to stop himself from kissing her again and again and holding onto her and refusing to let go. But he lets Amy wander, and he lets her go. It's for the best after all.
Sometimes (and when he says sometimes he means often) he wishes he could be that Rory for her, be a human on the same level of her where she could properly love him, and that they weren't left to staring at each other in awe and wonder, as though they are both too fascinating and exotic for the other to even begin to comprehend.
And Amy is a bit like that isn't she? He doesn't think anyone will ever understand her completely.
He could live centuries with her and never tire because he knows she will never stop surprising him. Even when he thinks he knows every last inch and aspect of her, she turns around and well, it turns out he really doesn't. He only knows one thing for certain; Amy will sacrifice everything, and he knows who it will be for.
And he wishes it was him, as selfish and unselfish as it was. It should be him. He needs it to be him.
But even as he begs her to stay with him, resorting to reminding her of when they first traveled together, an emotional blackmail of sorts, when he called to her:
'Come along Pond.'
She still leaves, and he knew she would do it, he knew she would let the Angel take her. But still, it hurts, and he cries, he cries like a human for her, acknowledging that as a human they are equals and that is where he would mourn her. He feels his wife's hand on his shoulder and he turns around, his thoughts filled with shining autumn hair. So real in his mind he could almost touch it.
But she is gone. And he feels as though one of his hearts has gone with her. Left a Human.
For Muffin, happy birthday! Sorry I couldn't send you an actual muffin, ily.