17 Jan. 2064 - 06:34 GMT
"We know not what it is, dear, this sleep so deep and still;
The folded hands, the awful calm, the cheek so pale and chill;
The lids that will not lift again, though we may call and call;
The strange white solitude of peace that settles over all."
—Mary Mapes Dodge
"The only danger in Friendship is that it will end."
—Henry David Thoreau
No.
No, no, no no no.
I refuse.
Illogical.
Impossible.
But it is, whether I like it or not.
I failed you.
Shut up.
I don't care.
It doesn't matter.
Nothing matters, not anymore. Now that he is-
Now that John is-
John Hamish Watson.
The one who listened.
The one who cared.
The only one to ever care about me, the only one capable of caring about someone like Sherlock Holmes: the freak, sociopath, machine.
Now he is-
I am alone.
Again.
I don't want to be alone.
Please come back, John.
I miss you.
I'm afraid of being alone again.
I tried so hard but I couldn't keep you here.
My best wasn't enough. It always was before. You thought it was enough before.
Then it wasn't. And now you're-
I miss you.
I think I am broken.
My chest has been crushed in. I'm not sure how.
They said I didn't have a heart
But what if I did?
I think it is gone now. Did you take it with you when you left? Maybe my chest is caving in where it used to be.
It didn't hurt before you, not like this. Why does it hurt to be alone now?
Now I know what I am missing.
I miss you.
How can I miss you when I am holding you? It shouldn't be possible.
But it is.
And I do.
I miss you.
Please come back.
I miss you.
Please come back.
I miss you.
Please...
John Hamish Watson
Please John I miss you come back
Please I miss you John come back
Come back I miss you please John
John please
John...