June 19, 2012

[missesthewar]

To my best fr

You bloody git

Sherlock-

My therapist told me to write a blog because she thought it would help. Get perspective or see things from another point of view, I suppose. Or maybe help with my 'trust issues', as she put them. I don't know. She wasn't the one who cured me. You were. And I don't understand, Sherlock. I can't understand why you...

Why. Just, why. I don't think I'll ever really understand that.

You arranged for me to believe Mrs. Hudson was going to be shot, I'm sure of that. Did you already know then, at St. Bart's that you were going to do it? Was there something I could have said?

I keep thinking of what I said to you. That I called you a machine will always be my greatest regret, and if I--

If I was part of the reason you jumped. I guess I'll always wonder that and hate myself for it.

I guess this is stupid because you're never going to read this. But I'll say it anyway.

You weren't a machine, Sherlock. You weren't nice, but you cared more than anyone I've ever known. So many people owe their lives to you. I do too. I was lost when you met me and you gave me so much.

I'm sorry, Sherlock. You once said I was your only friend, but I guess I wasn't a very good one.

John


[OOC: Credit for the idea of doing these letters goes to highfunctioning_sociopath.]