I'm reading through a piece titled, "With You" right now...

And it's tearing me apart.

Yeah, long chapters and all the character and plot development you could ever want. But that's exactly the problem. I get so caught up in it I can't breathe. I can't think. Seeing Arthur spiraling down to who he has become hurts me on every level.

It hit me, though.

It hit me that in so many ways, I'm just like him. Trying to fortify myself against the world, play the hero. But never letting people in.

Ten and Rose, in Rise of the Cybermen- Rose had asked, "Why no emotions?"
Ten gave her a look, an almost pitying look. "Because it hurts."

I picked up the pieces of what was left, and I hid them away and ran.
"To love her is to let her go," Arthur said.

How good of a liar do you think I've become over the past few years? How many things do you think I've hidden away, questions that I laughed off?

Everything in me is telling me to love. And I love, don't I? It's always going to be a part of me. I will always...should...always...reach out to love. And I should always try my best to.

Just not that. Not that part. Not that much.

Eventually, I get around to asking the question. How much of me is left?