Warning! This story contains feels, if you're going to cry I suggest grabbing your shock blankets and tissues if you're going to cry. If you don't have both I'm handing out some. *starts handing out some* also this is in johns pov. But at the end I'm going to take it out of his pov. And I will tell you when.

Every day is hard without you Sherlock. Sometimes when I make myself a cup of tea, I relies that I made one for you, but you're dead.

I can't take it Sherlock, it's only been 3 years since your fall but it feels like forever, I'm going insane.

Some night's when I get I get home from work, I fall asleep in your bed and I breath in the smell of you and start to cry. Why, why do you not come in my dreams at night and comfort me and say "it's alright john, it's alright".

It's so hard Sherlock; everyone that we know tell me it's going to be alright. Sometimes Mycroft try's and talk to me to let you go. I can't though. When I pass the hospital that you fell from to go to my therapist, I die a little every day. Mrs. Hudson also try's and cheer me up, but it doesn't work. She knows how much the fall hurt me, so she leaves me alone.

There's other night's where I sit in my chair and look at my gun. I wish I can end my suffering and can see you and can say my first words to you 'I love you' but I can't, I have to wait you, you're not dead Sherlock, you're not.

Every day I also go to you grave with a bouquet of flowers and I would wear your blue that lestrade let me have. I never leave the flowers there; I always sit by the tombstone looking at the engraving of your name and tell you how I've been but it's not the same. I still miss everything you do even you getting me mad that you left body parts in the refrigerator.

Looking at your chair and the window are the worst. When I get home for shopping or work I imagine you there, playing your violin or in your chair in your mind palace. It's the worst.

I can't do this Sherlock, not anymore. I want to see you again and hug you and tell you that I love you.

I started to pull out my phone and started to text Mycroft

Mycroft can you do me a favor? – JW

And what is that - MH

Can you tell molly, Greg, and the others that I can't go on like this? - JW

Wait, what are you doing!?- MH

Also please tell them good-bye and have them put me next to Sherlock, I can be with him forever? – JW

WAIT JOHN NO, I'M GOING TO SEND YOU HELP- MH

Too late good-bye- JW

Alright this is the part where I'm taking it out of john's POV.

John turned off his phone for good and headed to Sherlock's room with his gun in his hand.

As he laid down of Sherlock's he smiled to himself, thinking of all the happy things about Sherlock.

"Oh Sherlock, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" he thought to himself. He started to cry a bit while pointing the gun to his head, the last thing he felt himself smiling and pulling the trigger. Fin

I know I promise I would never make another feel story as long as I live but I couldn't help it after looking at sad comics with john of deviant art and watching episode 3 of season 2 of Sherlock.

If you want an alternate ending to this, where there is a happy ending tell me. There then that hope you like this and you where crying a bit