An open letter of my own thoughts on something I'd kill to have back.
9 months without you.
My heart can hardly take the strain of missing you, Doctor. How many years will pass before my heart will lay you to rest? They say that if wishes were poppy, we'd all be dreaming, but when reality feels like a nightmare, it's hard just to stay awake. Perhaps waking hours aren't as difficult as those spent asleep, however. I can't remember the last time I had a full night of sleep..just that it was you I had to wake up to instead of Mickey.
There are so many things I wish I could have said to you, Doctor. Missing you doesn't even come close to how I feel. . .What I wouldn't give to go home to you. I miss the whirring of the T.A.R.D.I.S. I miss the adventures and the fun. I am not cut out for a simple life. I think we both know that. From the moment you grabbed my hand and whispered "Run," I could never turn back.
I hope you're okay. I hope my leaving didn't leave you with holes in your hearts. I hope my smile faded peacefully into your memory. I hope dancing with me stays behind a lock box of memories you don't dare open. I hope that one day I am but a faint smile in the back of your mind. Doctor, you will never truly know the extent of my feelings for you. I don't even comprehend them...
But what I wouldn't give for one more hour with you. To be your Rose again. To be by your side. The Doctor, and Rose in the T.A.R.D.I.S. Just as it should be. To be happy and content and yours again. I might never have been in name, but I always strove to be Your Rose. The Doctor's love.
Now...it's just me.
Alone every day.
I see countless faces everyday, but I am invisible to them. They do not see who I am.
They see not adventure and happiness, but a grey cloud dulled round my pupils where bright green used to shine. Now, instead of a bubbly, joking, happy Rose...it's only misery and loneliness. And the loneliness fits like a glove, Doctor. It's worse now than it ever has been. Doctor, I am so scared. I miss your protection. Your delegation, your deliberate, instinctual, diplomatic intelligence. I find myself discrediting all of my accomplishments. They pale in comparison to yours. Doctor, I want to come home.
..
.
I love you, Doctor. I always have, and I always will.
And one day, even though I struggle to breathe now, I will find my peace with you. I will come to terms with not being with you anymore because it is what I must do.
You will never know these thoughts, but I want to articulate them anyways.
Besides...
My therapist says it's much healthier to write than to let thoughts go to waste...or worse be bottled up inside waiting to shatter the fragile glass we shove them in.
So, Doctor...
This means my goodbye.
I hope you can forgive me for not holding on tighter.
I doubt I ever will.
Forever yours,
Rose Tyler
