II. One

I know you're nervous, you know? I know you're disturbed. It kills me. It kills me because I'm not sure why, and I can't ask you this without burning the bridges behind me, and I could never burn any bridge that leads me to you. I just can't...

Who am I kidding? You're probably just upset that you'll have to make your own damn tea, and that you'll have to clean the kitchen after your bloody experiments! I laugh. I wouldn't admit it, but I'm going to miss it. It's difficult to have any idea of home that doesn't include a skull on the mantle, violin at night and you flying around in your dressing gown.

I have to do this, though. It kills me. It's killing me.

I have a strong character, I think. I am a good man, I can fight anything. But I couldn't fight this. I couldn't fight this wish to be normal. I'm not normal. I know people think I'm normal, but I'm not. You know this. The only reason why I look normal it's because I'm always at your side. It's the same reason why people seem to think I am so short. I am not that short, for God's sake. It's you that look like a giraffe. You sodding git.

I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss you so much that sometimes I pretend I'm not going to marry in a few days. I'm in this emotional storm, it's pathetic. I'm not a teenage girl, I'm a Captain, I have to honour my choices.

I'm doing this. I'll regret it some days, maybe most of them, but I have to do it.

I love her, I do. She's kind and funny and light and comprehensive. She's everything that you are not. You'll never be. And why do I continue to compare my future wife with my flatmate? Why do I insist on doing this if I could never just open my mouth and say that I love you? I love you, I do. I've always loved you, it's quite obvious.

It's nothing, blokes love their best friends, you know? These days it's called bromance, or something like that. Most people don't have a consuming best friend like me, but I still love you. Of course I do, it's normal.

But it's not, is it? Things are never normal with you, or with me.

You're not common. Sometimes I think I was an idiot to expect something ordinary from you. You like me, but you don't love me. You don't feel things that way. You didn't love Irene, you've never loved me either. Did you ever want anyone? Did you ever want me? Why do I keep asking myself this? I have to stop this.

You've never wanted anyone. You think people are dull. I'm the dullest of them all. Why would you want me, anyway? It's silly. All those people insinuating you and I were together, that was silly.

I'm not gay.

Well, living with you proved me that I'm not straight either, but that's none of anybody's business. It's not a problem. I'd love you anyway – man, woman or alien. Maybe you are an alien, after all.

I wanted you so much, I still do, is just that... I loved the one man I could never have.

Maybe I did have.

Did I? I'm just being delusional.

I can't stay like this forever, just wanting you and not knowing. I can't do this. I know you can't understand, but I'm human and this is sad. It just got to a point where it was too sad and we couldn't giggle enough to make all the emptiness go away. Well, watching you giggle just make me want you more.

Oh, God, listen to me, I sound like a teenage girl. Stupid.

I'm moving out, I'm getting married, I'll start a family.

It's so boring, isn't it?

But I have to do this, Sherlock, I have to.

It's killing me to see you like that, but I have to. Because I don't understand and you won't explain.

I should just stay the hell away from you for sometime, work as a doctor, don't come anywhere near you. But I won't. I'll probably just postpone my honeymoon so we can run through London at night.

I'm planning my honeymoon with you. I'm insane. I'm not making any sense here, damn it.

Maybe I'll stop loving you like this. Yeah, maybe I'll get used to being normal and wanting only my beautiful wife. She's amazing, you know? She loves me so much, it's unfair. She deserves better. She does, but she wants me. It's good to know someone wants me. Nobody ever wants me. Yes, now I'm just whining. But she wants me, and I want her. She wants me so much that she didn't try to replace you. I think she knows she couldn't. Who could ever replace you? I should know that too. Sometimes I ask myself if I'm not just being naïve for trying.

At least she's happy.

One of us is happy, you know?

She is happy. She has to be.

I wish I could say I'm happy. I'm not. This is the truth, I'm not happy. Not for me. I'm happy for her, though. Love is also being happy for someone, wishing their happiness instead of our own. It's called not being a completely selfish git, but you wouldn't know that, would you? Surely you wouldn't.

I'm still bitter, I'm still angry. I still can't believe I lost you for so long.

And now this...

But it has to be done. It just has to be done.

The first night I slept in my new house I had a nightmare and there wasn't any violin to help me sleep again. I could never tell her this, but I miss you every damn time, it's crazy! How can I miss you doing nothing at all, sulking on the sofa?

I just... I can't.

This isn't healthy, I can't stay like this, I can't.

I miss making your tea and arguing, I swear I miss you being an arrogant sod. Sometimes I have this feeling that I missed something about us, that we had everything and I just didn't see it. I can almost hear you say that I did not observe. What did I miss, Sherlock?

No. I can't...

I have to put myself together.

After the nightmare, I looked at her and found her sleeping graciously beside me. She's such an amazing creature, I hope I don't screw this up. I want to have a nice life, I deserve this, I can't just be your shadow, living of a broken heart, damn it.

I hug her, I kiss her and I cuddle her because I want to make her happy, she deserves it.

She smiles, even in her sleep.

At least she is happy.