They say that watching someone getting married is a happy event. It should be even more happy if it's someone you care about is getting married. Well, I'm not happy right now. I keep thinking to myself that it's my fault. Of course, it's my fault. Maybe if I hadn't left, he wouldn't have found Mary. Maybe, if I had spoken up about my feelings for him, he would have stayed with me. He knows that I'm not happy. I can see it in his face everytime he looks at me. Even though I'm unhappy, I'm happy at the same time. I'm happy for John.

What if he was never like me? Not in the sense of being the same person, but of liking the same people. I hate the idea that I'll never know now because the music has started and Mary is walking down the aisle. I stand respectfully, doing my best to watch Mary, but I can't help looking back at John. Even though he is leaning heavily against that cane, he is attempting to stand proudly.

I thought that when I got back, he would have to stop using the cane. I could deduce easily how he had been doing two months after I had fallen. He was lonely, angry, depressed. The nightmares had returned, even worse than they were before. He was limping again, not sleeping well and he felt lost. What hurt the most was the next thing I deduced. He felt guilty.

He felt guilty because he couldn't stop me from jumping off the roof of St. Barts. He felt guilty because he couldn't stop his best friend in the world from "killing" himself. I had caused him to feel guilty, so of course he's leaving me. I deserve this. I deserve this treatment because of how I acted. I never should have left because I needed to be there for him.

I did my best to stop Moriarty from killing those that I loved. That was why I had jumped, I tried to save John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson. By faking my death, I thought I had gotten around Moriarty. This was the only time that my mistake was fatal. It's why Lestrade isn't here today, it's why Molly is all alone now. I couldn't find Moran quickly enough. When I heard that Lestrade was dead, I sent someone to grab while I went to find John.

I had followed him to Trafalgar square, where he was just sitting calmly. I kept looking around at the buildings surrounding the park. I knew that Moran would be there, wanting to kill John. My mind ran on overload, scanning the crowds and the buildings, looking to see the barrel of his sniper rifle. I managed to see it just as John stood up. I shouted and took off running, scaring John and knocking him into the ground. The bullet still hit him, but it wasn't fatal. That's why he still has to lean heavily against the cane.

I'm glad I had gotten to him in time and it was even better that there was a pair of paramedics on their break at the time. If they weren't there, John would have been dead because the bullet had hit him in the femoral artery. He wouldn't have made it to the hospital if they hadn't been there. I guess John is lucky to be alive. He didn't understand why I had left, it made no difference to him now that people had died. It made no difference in the world that I had tried to save him.

For awhile, neither of us spoke to each other. I decided that it was better to give John his space to deal with the idea that I was still alive. After that night in the hospital, we didn't see each other for another three or four weeks. I thought that this time was even worse because, I knew that John knew that I was alive but I still couldn't talk to him. The next time we spoke was at Lestrade's funeral. That was a tense conversation. When the funeral had finished I walked over to John, who had been consoling Molly. All John did was nod his head.

"Molly, I'm sorry." I stated, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I never thought.."

"I know that you never thought that this would happen." Molly said. "You don't think about your actions hurting other people, Sherlock Holmes. You only think about how your actions benefit yourself. You have no idea how this whole thing effected John, and now you have left me all alone. This is all your fault Sherlock Holmes. I don't even know why you came here."

"He was my friend too, Molly." I whispered.

"No, he was your boss, Sherlock. And he was more than my friend, he was my husband and he was a father, Sherlock. Did you know that? I don't think you did. So leave, before I call the yard and have you arrested."

So I walked away, not even talking to John. I stood out of sight from Molly, just watching as Donnavan ushered her away from her husband's grave.

"So why are you really here, Sherlock?" I heard a voice come from behind me.

I turned around to see John standing there. I had not seen him leave, so he startled me a little.

"I'm here to pay respects to my friend. I'm here, I guess, to see how my mistake has affected others." I responded.

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it. Why are you actually here?"

"I want to make sure that you're okay."

"Oh, now you take my well-being into account."

"John, you know that I was protecting you. My "death", if that's what you want to call it, was for you. I know how you felt."

"You know how I felt!" John shouted. "You know nothing about how I felt."

"Really? Well I can tell you that your nightmares return but they were worse than the one's from the war. You started limping again as well as becoming depressed and angry."

"You don't know what I went through."

"You were guilty. I know that you felt guilty. You felt guilty because you couldn't stop me from leaping off of that building. You felt like you failed me, because you couldn't stop me. You felt worthless, like you could do nothing right in your life. I know that you quit your job, but you could never leave 221B."

There were tears beginning to build in John's eyes.

"How did you know?" He asked, his voice cracking.

"How do you think Mycroft actually died?"

"He killed himself?"

"He did in his grief. His wife died of cancer around the time that I fell off the building. Mycroft was consumed in his grief, he shut himself in his room. He cut himself off. I forced my way into his room one night, where I found him holding a gun to his head. I tried to talk him out of it, but it didn't work. I know what you are going through because I went through it as well. Don't tell me that I don't know how you feel, because I do. If there is any emotion that I actually know, it's the guilt of not saving someone I care for."

That's what broke the wall between us. He finally understood what had happened, what I had done for him. That didn't mean that I told him about I felt.

I couldn't tell him about how I felt because he introduced me to Mary. I knew right then and there that my decision to save his life, had costed me a great deal. Now as I sit in the pews of the church, I can't help but to feel guilty for the choice that I made.

"Is there anyone who believes that these two people should not be bound in holy matrimony?" The pastor questioned.

I was sitting on the isle. I stood up and walked out of the church. John knew that I disapproved of this marriage. I turned back at the doors to see the look of disappointment on his face at my exit. I guess that I do care more about others than I do about myself. John got everything he needed. He is no longer alone, he has a family. Me...well, I'm still alone with no one who understands me anymore. Me...I'm alone like it always had been before John came into my life.