The truth was that you didn't need me anymore.
I was foolish to think things would remain the same, that you would still need me.
But you weren't broken. Not anymore.
I saw a glimpse of it on that first adventure of ours. You walked so easily into that lift, when before you would have remained attached to my side.
Always together.
I caught a hint of my future in Sarah Jane. You told me you wouldn't, but even if not by choice, you would leave me.
Then there was the fireplace, and that's when I knew. That's when it was certain – it was written in the stars that you would never be mine. Not really.
So many times I was left behind. I could have gone home, I could have stayed behind, but I did neither. By your side was the only place I wanted to be.
Then there was the day that I died.
Ripped from your side for the rest of time. At least, that's what you told me then on that cold bay. It was cruel. I wanted you to say anything to give me an idea that I meant something to you.
I could see it in your face and in your eyes. But still, you didn't say.
My heart broke that day and it never fully mended. Not until I knew there was a chance of seeing you again.
And I did. I felt you in my arms, your double hearts beating quickly next to my lonely human one.
And we were running again, my hand in yours. I was elated to see that you hadn't forgotten about me and that others knew my name and revered it next to yours.
But then you did what you do best.
You left me.
***
The truth is that you scare me.
How could I explain an eternity of emotions and feelings in a matter of fleeting moments?
Was I a coward? Of course.
Always will be.
It was there since the first moment that I saw you and felt your hand in mine. I told you to run, but somehow I knew that I wanted you to always run with me.
Loving you came easy. It scared me. Me, the Oncoming Storm, was unnerved by a human London shop girl.
You had your life, even if I ripped you from it so selfishly.
And I stole that kiss, knowing full well you wouldn't remember it. I didn't know how the regeneration would unfold, and I wasn't about to leave that stone unturned.
To my surprise, even as a thin pretty boy, I felt that love for you even more.
I didn't think it possible.
And so with the realization came the fear.
And with the fear came the mistakes.
Sarah Jane.
Rickey the Idiot.
Reinette.
Each representing a part of me that I wanted to hide from you. Each one representing a part of my failure.
Each one making you see me more clearly.
I didn't want to lose you. I've never wanted to lose you. And time and time again, that's what kept on happening.
And then came the day of Canary Wharf.
It may have been your name on the list of the dead, but my hearts were the ones that died that day.
Losing you was something I had run away from for so long that when it happened, I didn't know what to do.
All I had to say was that I love you. Time and courage ran out too quickly.
I should have known you would find me again. Seeing your beautiful smile, those golden locks…I had been without them for too long.
And as I felt your hand in mine again, feeling you against me…it all felt so right. And because it did, I knew that it was wrong and wouldn't last.
I was ready this time.
I was prepared for the flood of pain. But I thought that maybe, just maybe, the gift of my human self would help ease your pain. The pain that was always at the center of my attention – always trying to keep it at bay even when I was the one causing it.
Having to hide my words from you for the second time, the millionth time was wrong, but necessary.
Seeing you kiss him, not being able to feel your lips against mine for one last time, caused me the pain I deserve.
I want you to be happy.
Do it for me.
What can I say? I saw Rise of the Cybermen and The Age of Steel last night and it made me mad all over again...
It must be his oncoming departure...so much gloom in my writing, no funny bits anymore! I'll try harder next time :)