What I was for him? A companion, an accomplice, a friend. A nice moment in his immortal existence. A simple Earthling of twenty years old. Nothing more. He did promise me some things, but there never was a matter of emotions between us. Only friendship.

However.

I startled myself when I began to envy those who can talk with him about some highly scientific words... the ones I knew nothing about. I was only a girl borned in a Dark Time England post. Nothing more. I knew nothing of time travels gold universal galactic laws. I only spoke two languages: English and British slang.

However.

How many had he had before me? How many companions, robots, aliens? And why there was no. trace of them? The Tardis was like a hotel room. Except some gadgets made only for Timelords, there was nothing from others.

However.

I don't understand how I let my love blooms for him. He's so lonely that people can't try to cure him. And because he's great, good, nice, generous, funny and so surprising, any women would want his attention. And I am but a woman. So, I fell for him. I never dare to confess to him. After all, I am not in his category. For his own sake, he needs someone like him.

Then, despite me or because it was him who aroused me to so many things, my personality has changed. I started to respond to the same things, finding the unexpected ordinary and enjoying the small things, taking everything with an apparent carelessness. And he became a bit like me. He opened from time to time and I felt him both sadder and happier. More human. But I was moved to see him react to my presence. I felt that I was getting to him. A thought of the Doctor is worth millions of trophies, medals and honors. A smile from him could blow up a Sun, but my heart merely beat a little stronger. I would have given everything that he kisses me once, I would have given my life so he finds happiness with me or with someone else, to see him drop behind him loneliness, sadness, the weight of eternity. I would have given everything.

And him too, as usual.

I understood at the end. For my happiness and my safety, he chose the solitude. I paid the price to return to him. My decision had been taken for a long time: between the universe and my planet, between the Doctor and my family, it is him that I had chosen. Anyway, being away from him is killing the better part of me, piece of my heart which had given birth and I had maintained despite myself. Worse, it was tearing my soul. We may be alive and unable to move, to talk, to communicate. We can live with one arm, with paralyzed legs. But life is just a black and white photograph if we are losing our soul. We don't actually live with a beating heart. And my heart beat to the rhythm of his own. So, I chose to send them all to hell and return to his side.

And then, there was Canary Wharf and we were separated. I could die. But fate had decided that I would live in an alternate universe with my parents, my best friend. I would have a future but without my Doctor. The first weeks were atrocious. I remember a long time where I was incapable of breathing between my dry cry, or feeling something while tears run on my face. Each time, instinctively, I was turning toward him to realize that he wasn't there, that he would never be there.

He would continue to be alone. And so would I.