A/N: I'm running on very little sleep, and am unable to think something witty to say, so I suppose I'll let my writing speak for itself... hopefully it will say something worth your while.
Disclaimer: I would like to state that I do not own Doctor Who or anything at all related to it. Nope, no owning for me.
He wasn't for me. I suppose I had always known that, but I once had hopes that I was mistaken. Ah well, there is no use dreaming of possibilities that were never really possible to begin with. He was a time lord, and I was only some human; it could never have worked, really.
That aside, he was in love with someone else- of course, that wouldn't work either, but that thought didn't seem to bother him very much. He would just keep dreaming his dreams, and enjoying his little adventures, waiting for his love to appear like he somehow knew that she one day would. What I wouldn't give for him to think of me as he did her; even now. I was always just a distraction. I didn't like to think of myself as such, but deep down I think that I always knew that that was what I was to him.
We had our fun, but that was all it was. He was just biding his time until the day that he could replace me with his little flower- not that I'm bitter.
I sometimes wonder why I didn't just leave, I mean I did, eventually, but why it took me so long to do so. Maybe I was just deluding myself- okay, that isn't so much a maybe, but a certainly. I was deluding myself, and the worst part was that I knew it the whole time; I was trying to make myself believe that it didn't matter what I meant to him, so long as I was the one with him; so long as it was I keeping him company, and I being his everything.
Sure, I knew that it wouldn't last, but maybe I thought I could change; we could change- I suppose that our run in with Miss Joan Redford, and the Family of Blood, blew that notion out the window. I don't know, maybe I was just being... there, I've gone and lost my train of thought.
Thinking about him can do that to a girl, I suppose. Yes, I know I'm being foolish, childish. But do you really think that after all of this that it really matters? Maybe I don't want to forget about him, and how he made me feel, and maybe I don't want all of it to be just a memory anymore.
I hate to say it, but there is a part of me that wishes that I had stayed, that part that sometimes in the middle of the night picks up my mobile, and gets halfway through ringing him before realizing just what a mistake it would be.
You see, I need him, but I also need him to need me; that said, I suppose that the point is moot.
A/N: Reviews are love, as is constructive criticism, so click the little clickable thing and tell me what you think about my work- we all need a little love, right? The more feedback I get, the more likely it is that I will post again, and relatively soon, so keep that in mind.