Who am I to say?
Look, I know you've been busy. Both of us have. But...
This has to be adressed.
You don't call me back. You won't email or text me. And God knows I'm too much of a coward to look you in the face, and speak. So here comes one very long text.
I am sorry.
For whatever it was I did wrong, or offended you, or led you off. I didn't mean too. To be honest, I don't think you ever wanted this to... escalate, to what its become. To this - whatever this is. Whatever we are.
I know what your answer is, if you don't reply. I probably know it already, and I don't want to face the truth. That's the funy thing about me. Always afraid of whats looking straight at me. Always running from the obvious, like it will actually catch me. Maybe that's why I do this job. To solve other people's problems. To capture whatever it was that finally caught them.
Funny... I am afraid of the truth, and not of serial murderers, or guns, or angry ex-wives.
That was... strangely poetic. But, really, it's honest.
You confuse me. You know I'm no good at this, but still, you push me. Guess you're supposed push those you love care for to become better, or to face their fears.
Well, here I am. As much of a confrentation as you are getting, Mycroft.
But... Look at that. I almost wrote love. You really hate that word, don't you? I don't understand why, though. Not everything has to end in bitterness, you know. But you never could quite grasp that... The fact that I actually care for you, despite your cold facade. That I want to be around you, even when you don't want to be bothered. That I love you, even if you don't love me back. Even if you never did.
But, who am I say that?
Who am I to say anything about whatever it is that goes on in that bloody head of yours? You never really let me in, did you? Even me... You couldn't trust me with that much.
I am sorry, Mycroft. For everything.
Despite all of this... Despite everything I have said that should drive me (or any sane human being) away, it hasn't. Because, God save me, I love you. Whether you accept it or not.
Mycroft Holmes, I love you.
Just... think about what I asked. And... please, call me, when you get the chance.
-GL