The Doctor gave a strange laugh, not because he was amused but because it really was ridiculous. "I'm living in an apartment. I have a job. I don't have the TARDIS anymore. This is more than ridiculous," he explained, although actually saying the words aloud made him realise how crap it really was. The town had taken away his only purpose in life.
He sighed, glancing up again although he seemed to sort of look through him rather than at him. "Not your fault," he said with a shrug. It was true, it wasn't the clone's fault, but he didn't really have anyone else to blame. Except for himself, and that hadn't really been doing wonders for his mental health lately. It was ridiculous how sorry he was feeling for himself, but he supposed that with every other heartache he'd been able to just jump right back onto the fast lane and avoid even thinking about it. He was being forced onto the slow path, forced to face up to his own emotions, in a way that was very un-Gallifreyan. And he didn't like it. The Doctor didn't felt complete - he felt cold and distant.