Two. Fucking. Years... I knew I loved him, of course. But, until the moment I saw him walking towards me in that restaurant, God, I didn't realize how much and in which terms. His slim body moving like a walking poetry. His eyes fixed on me while approaching. One single curl falling in his forehead. The whole world just vanishing around me and him. And I froze. Was he a ghost? I thought. Am I seeing him or is it just my imagination trying to fill the hole he left. Then, when I felt his smell, I realized the smell I have felt all these years was the bitter smell of his death and there he was... His real scent, so fresh, so intense and alive!
"Hello, John." he said with that voice. That voice made my stomach revolve... Hello, John? Hello, John!? I thought. And the things before vanished started to appear and I could see Mary's eyes alternating between me and him. He was really there, Mary was looking at him too.
I simply stood there, while he sat in the chair beside, staring him. I could even feel some warm coming from his body. And he certainly felt how heavy my breathing was, how ruddy my face turned. It took me everything to hold the tears because they were about to flood my eyes with the pain, the anger, the confusion.
A thread of voice escaped from my mouth: "Why?" That was everything I could say once my throat was fighting against the content of my stomach and the tears.
"I'll tell you everything, John. But first..." He turned to Mary and introduced himself. "Hello, I'm Sherlock Holmes." Yes, you are the fucking Sherlock Holmes, like nobody knew it. And extended his hand, and shook Mary's hand. Did I mention I never heard a thing that Mary said after Sherlock's big entrance? Poor Mary, lost in such awkward situation!
I swear to God, I just wanted to strangler him. Or hug him or anything I couldn't figure what at the moment. I wanted to touch him so badly I was shivering.
And he told us. He told everything. Should I suppose to accept everything he had just explained and go "Oh, ok, then"? No! No, Sherlock! Not enough for me! You could have let me know before! You should have! But I didn't say anything. I called the waiter and ask the bill.
"John, …"
"Shut the fuck up, Sherlock!"
I didn't wait for the bill, just picked some money in my pocket and threw it on the table. And I blessed Mary for standing up and follow me. I blessed her even more for not talking to me in the way back home. She just looked at me with understanding. The only words she said: "Would you like to talk about it, John?" I just shook my head no and gave her a smile. She left. Mary, Mary, Mary… I'm so sorry.
My head aching and the weight of the tears brought me to my knees. And I fell. I fell… I fell into a deep comprehension of what all this really meant, finally.