Breakeven
He could almost feel his hearts breaking; literally splitting in half. Not in two perfect halves, but snapping, with the middle just a jagged line.
It took all he had not to just beg her to choose him – choose him over that copy, that clone. A part of him was terrified: she owned their hearts and it was her decision. She could break his two hearts or the break the other's one heart.
But he was a selfish person one time too many, and he knew he couldn't be that this time. For once, although it metaphorically killed him, he would be selfless. He would let her choose – not that it would be a choice, not really. He knew that, given the proper chance, she would choose him and a life in the TARDIS, over his copy and a domestic, boring life.
And that lightened his heavy hearts, somehow. Knowing he would've been her first choice made it easier for him to accept that he was giving her away. But even then, it wasn't anywhere near easy; not that he expected or wanted it to be.
So it was with a deep feeling of guilt and heartbreak that he – not lied just... – told a different truth and let the other him take the glory.
As he saw her go to him, he turned. But he was too late, and his most recent memory of her was of her kissing someone who was so much like him, who could've been him; but wasn't.
It was the right choice, but why did being selfless and choosing right hurt so much?
Inspired by The Script's song, Breakeven.
Words: 268
Posted: 30th May 2013