She couldn't help but think back to his leather jacket and wool jumpers and those wide blue eyes that made her weak in the knees. His thick Northern accent would never comfort her again, his callosued fingers would never twine with hers the same way again, his delicious scent would never be the familiar mix of leather, time, and a faint hint of pine. She could never look at his adorably large ears and giggle because they no longer existed.
Rose loved her new Doctor more than she could possibly say, but he could never be the same. Sometimes he'd make a joke and, oh God, it sounded so much like him, but then he'd be the jmpy thing he was now. She could never have him back and it killed her inside.
Sometimes she thought she could remember something, something about singing and Daleks and the TARDIS and him, but the thought was always just out of reach. Just like him, just like their life that could have been if he hadn't regenerated. She missed him. So much. And he knew it.