Today, John met with his psychiatrist. He wanted to explain why he feels as though his life means nothing any more, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he shrugged; he dismissed her concerns; he carried on as always. Maybe tomorrow, he will open up to her.
Today, John bumped into his old friend, Mike. Mike told him he knew of somebody who was looking for a flatmate. He met Sherlock Holmes at St. Bart's, but wasn't sure what to make of the somewhat eccentric man in the lab. Maybe tomorrow, he will get to know him better.
Today, John went to view a flat in Baker Street. Sherlock had already accepted it, but John wasn't so sure. He doesn't feel as though he is ready to share his life with somebody else. Maybe tomorrow, he will feel differently.
Today, John found himself investigating a crime scene. He was completely blown away by the sheer brilliance of Sherlock Holmes, and found himself telling him this more times than he ought. Maybe tomorrow, the novelty will wear off.
Today, John killed a man. He was a bad man (and a bloody awful cabbie), but he had threatened the life of somebody John had come to consider a friend. Maybe tomorrow, they will stop giggling about it.
Today, John has a date with a woman from work. She is good for him; a normal person; somebody to ground him, in contrast to the complete madness that surrounds his life with Sherlock Holmes. The date doesn't go as planned. Maybe tomorrow, somebody won't try to blow John up in a swimming pool.
Today, John studied Sherlock Holmes as he lay curled on the sofa, wearing only a dressing gown. He wondered how somebody so full of life could look so small; so lost; so vulnerable. He found himself yearning to touch and to hold him. Maybe tomorrow, he will have the confidence to do so.
Today, John bluffed his way into a military base. They investigated luminous rabbits and giant hounds. He felt confidence, fear, confusion and love. Maybe tomorrow, he will pluck up the courage to tell him.
Today, John discovered that justice isn't always sweet. Jurors can be blackmailed and the press are only out for a good story. Maybe tomorrow, the world will realise it's been duped by a madman.
Today, John watched as his best friend stood atop a building and declared he was a fake. He tried to convince Sherlock that he believed in him, and that everything would be OK, but his words were weak. Today, John realised that there would be no more tomorrows.