Her name was Rose. She was as beautiful as the flower, and her personality was as bright as the shining sun. She was so very smart, and so very young, compared to the Doctor. But, as her name states, she was as fragile as a flower. She could wilt. Someone could ruin her dreams, plucking her petal by petal by petal. She was sweet, and caring. She was lovely. She stayed by his side every single waking moment, because she loves him. It was the Doctor who plucked her, in the end. He took her dream by dream, petal by petal, and left her. He destroyed all the light she had shinned so much when they had first met. She was no longer sweet little Rose Tyler, she was the Bad Wolf, and she was so much more like the title then she was her actual. He left her, in pain. He had brightened her life so much, and then distinguished that light so carelessly. She had changed, and not for the better. But the Doctor did this, didn't he? Found the brightest, happiest people and then knocked them down. Wilted them, and destroyed every thing that was important to them.
The Doctor had became Rose's life. She looked forward to every single day with him. She looked forward to all the journeys they'd have, and places they'd go, and eventual stories to tell. Her dreams involved a lot more adventure then they had before. When the Doctor told her where she was going next, excitement would keep her up at night. The Doctor made everything he did so effortless, and graceful. The way he laughed at a new adventure, and seemed so excited to experience everything. He was full of so many wonderful, extraordinary surprises, and it made Rose love him so much more. He took her hand everyday, and took her all over galaxies, and all over planets throughout all of time and space. They had discovered new races of alien life. They had saved solar systems. Rose enjoyed every second of it, and mostly because she was going to see the Doctor show her something new, or maybe it was just because she loved the Doctor so much.
By the end of their time together, it was like he enjoyed watching her suffer. He could have so easily gotten her back. He had done so many harder things in his life. He could have brought Rose with him, but he didn't. He left her. He left her on that beach. Rose cried herself to sleep every night. She was so not the same Rose Tyler. She was colder. She had seen battle. That was the only thing Rose allowed herself to remember about the Doctor. Battle. And letting her go so carelessly, or it felt carelessly. He had broken Rose's heart. She had loved him so much, but he didn't seem to even love her back. She had given up her life on earth for him. She had left her family and friends to be with him. She had sacrificed so much for him. But Rose felt like he didn't care. Her heart was breaking. She was wilting. Her peddles were dying. She was being pulled apart, petal by petal.
The Doctor had was failing. His hearts were collapsing. He had to let the only girl he had ever loved go. It was time. He was scared. He didn't know how to keep her happy, after he knew she was in love with him. She'd expect more, even though the Doctor was to afraid to be in a relationship. No matter how much he loved her, he was just terrified. He couldn't let her down. He would be in to much pain. He knew his was breaking her heart. He knew that he was being selfish. But at the same time, his heart was breaking. He loved her, but he'd let her down. He was rubbish. She was so perfect, and he would let her down. He already had let her down. His Rose. His Rose Tyler. He wanted her to come back, but he didn't want her to be in love with him. Rose was so delicate, and he knew that he'd hurt her. Little did he know that this was hurting her more then anything he'd ever do if they got together. He was a stupid old man, and he loved Rose, but he didn't want to hurt her. It was selfish of him to leave her on that beach. He could have gone through the rift and gotten her, and then closed it. He knew he could. He knew he could have helped her. But he didn't, and he was so painfully aware that Rose knew it, too. It was his fault, he knew, but now, after his stupid decision, Rose was the adventure he could never have. And maybe that was what hurt him that most. And ever since, the Doctor was slowly started to wilt. He was plucking himself, petal by petal...
