AN: Just had this idea while in the shower, of all places. Eleven/Amy oneshot, set a week or so after The God Complex. Based on the song You Were Meant For Me by Jewel.

Beebeebeebeebee-

I groan and fumble for the off button, blearily peering out through my eyelashes, half-expecting to be in that ridiculous bunk bed again-

6:00 AM.

Home.

Or rather, my new home.

The months before feel like dreams, half-forgotten, fantastic, wonderful, superlative dreams. So far away, and yet they only feel like yesterday…

I stumble through the house, rummage through the fridge. Rory probably left… what, half an hour ago?

He never bothers to get me up anymore. And why should he? I'll just end up going back to sleep anyway. Hoping to dream of him again…

I shake my head and get out a carton of eggs, some pancake mix, maple syrup, everything I want for breakfast.

Well, everything but him.

I sigh and break the eggs into a frying pan, almost grinning as I see that they make a smiley face. I do have to give him props for this place. Everything I could ever want. Lovely shower, brand-new appliances, it's even already furnished. Not to mention our new car that Rory seems to like better than me now. I don't even know how he did it.

Even the door is the most gorgeous, deep blue… Blue like the ocean, the feathers on a peacock, the TARDIS…

I reach over the stove and flip a pancake, lost in my thoughts.

I step out of the shower, rubbing my hair with the towel. Blow-dry, brush, style. Get dressed. I carefully wipe the spots off the mirrors and step back.

I remember how oftentimes, after I took a shower, he would take me aside and tell me, with the most serious face possible, that leaving towels on the floor was not cool.

I smile and hang the towel up.

The door closes behind me. I almost leave the keys in the lock again, just wondering what the point of it all it. Then I shake my head.

Now Amy, I tell myself, whatever happened to that new positive outlook you told yourself you'd get? Besides… You may as well forget him.

I cough, hiding the tears that were gathering in my eyes, from who, I don't know. Maybe from myself.

As I get home from my shopping, I wonder if maybe calling my mother would cheer me up. I haven't talked to her in months, after all.

It's still rather novel, having a mother, despite kind of having her my whole life. Because there's this part of me that remembers how I didn't have her for most of my life. Even though I did.

I dial her number.

Voicemail.

I end up confessing my troubles to a cup of coffee, instead.

It doesn't seem very interested in talking.

Maybe a movie would help… I go over to the TV, turn it on, pick a movie at random.

It turns out to be a lovely romance, with a happy ending where everyone gets together.

You'd think that would make me happy, right? My life just doesn't seem to work like that, though.

Instead, it just made me miss him.

I spit into the sink, already planning to simply tell Rory I'm tired tonight. I rinse my toothbrush off, place it in the toothbrush-holder, then make sure to flick the light-switch on the way out.

I know how you hate it when I leave lights on.

I take a deep breath, look around my room. Lie down next to Rory. He already fell asleep. No need for excuses today.

I slip beneath the covers, dreading the night. I always feel the most empty during these times, the times when it's dark and no-one is around. I only feel half-alive ever since you left, but these times are the worst… I feel mostly dead at night.

I tell myself it will be okay. I just shouldn't think tonight.

I turn over and close my eyes, hoping to dream of him.

The Doctor. My wonderful Doctor.

"Dreams last for so long

Ever after you're gone."

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