Dear Rory Williams,
I love you, big nose and all.
You were (and still are, actually) my favourite companion. Err … I mean companion to the Doctor. You weren’t my companion. Yet. Maybe.
Shut up, Sarah! Just be cool!
Ok. Let me start this again.
I love you, deeply and unabashedly.
You are charming, funny, loyal, caring, kind, and, if we’re being perfectly honest, the most amazing man to ever grace my television screen (except maybe Marshall, but let’s not go there).
Your intense loyalty to Amy Pond brought tears to my eyes repeatedly. 2000 years guarding the Pandorica? Mouthing off to Cyber-Men? The way you cried when you first held your daughter? You are genuinely swoon-worthy.
Oh-so very swoon-worthy.
And when you sacrificed yourself to the Weeping Angels? You, my darling Rory, broke my heart. Honest. That scene is still one of my favourites in all of Doctor Who (take that, Rose).
And though you have very permanently been ripped out of the story line I still cross my fingers and hold out hope that one day you and Amy will return, ready to sass it out with the new Doctor who would probably be annoyed and delighted to no end.
(Are you reading this, Steven Moffat? I’ve got some great story ideas if you’d like to give me a call? Feel free to drop me a line on this here blog and we’ll discuss.)
But until that day comes I will just have to content myself by watching old episodes repeatedly while I shop for witty Doctor Who accessories online.
I love you, Rory. Thank you for showing me what it truly means to be a companion.
With all of my heart,
PS. I had a pretty big crush on Arthur Darvill, the actor who portrays Rory, until I discovered on one of my many internet searches that he’s apparently super into taxidermy which freaked me out a fair bit. Alas, they can’t all be perfect.