How does one describe him?

How is one to describe a 900+ year old Time Lord that acts like a 5 year old human?

A man with enough power to turn around armies.
A man who has brought down governments with a few choice words.
A man with the wits and wiles to survive those 900+ years while putting himself in constant danger with no back up or plan.
A man with all the brains of past, present, and future human geniuses wrapped up in one head.
A man, who for all his intelligence, lacked the most basic of common sense.
A man with the attention span of an ADHD 5 year old.
A man with a fondness for ridiculous dress.
A man who changes.

Each incarnation, each face, was different. One was strict and stern. Another was an overgrown child. One would be a ladies man. One would blush down to his toes. One intimidating. Another awkward.
He had worn everything from suits to leather jackets to a fez and bowtie. He even went through an interesting vegetable wearing phase when he was younger.

Over the time of the universe, there are many people who will say they knew the Doctor. Prime ministers, queens, actresses, generals, and laymen will tell you of that mysterious man in his precious blue box.
But, there is only one who truly knows the Doctor.

Me.

I know how much he cares.
I know how much he loves.
I know how much he hurts.

I can see it in his eyes and feel it in his touch when he thinks that no one is looking.

But I am always looking and I always see.

So much pain covered up by people and temporary happiness. They distract him, his companions. They give him a joy that he can no longer get from the universe. But, when the laughter dies and the running is over, the same melancholy eyes return.

And then his companions would leave.

Sometimes they got tired. Sometimes they got old.

There were always complications.

Sometimes they forgot him.

And sometimes...sometimes they died.

Every time he told himself it was the last time. He would never take on another companion again. It hurt too much. It cut too deep. It would never take long, though, for him to break those promises. The Doctor could not travel alone. Something happened to him when he traveled by himself. He became someone he didn't want to be.

He was never really alone, you know. He had me. I was always there.

I love him. I have loved him for a very long time.

I stole him. My own personal Time Lord. My Doctor.

He is mine...and I am his.

He calls me "Sexy." I think that is my name. He takes care of me. Making sure I am well looked after, even if he does always mess up my brakes.

I take care of him too. I take him wherever he needs to go, even if it is sometimes a surprise to him. I shelter him from storm and enemy. It was I who held him in the comforting embrace of my walls as he cried after saying goodbye to Rose. It was I that guided him to the locations of the companions after his loneliness got out of hand. I am the one who gives him the information and the tools he needs, although it is not always what he wants.

But I can only do so much.

I can only watch as my Doctor regenerates. I can only watch as he tears himself up inside over the Ponds. And I can only mourn as he retreats inside himself, unresponsive to even my gentle pushes.

I have had a lot of beings come through my doors. Some human, some alien, some are a hybrid of the two. Some I have hated. Some I have loved. Some I have mourned.

But I will never love anyone more than my Doctor.

My sometimes rude, sometimes childish, sometimes strict, sometimes reckless, never ginger, but always wonderful Doctor.
So how do I describe my Doctor? The one full of "sometimes" and changes? In three words.

He. Is. Mine.

And he always will be...