Dear Sherlock,
I thought I had seen you today. Funny little brains, aren't they? Making up things… Seeing things that aren't really there. Am I going insane? Probably. You see, I was walking down the street - going to Tesco's to buy some food. I'm rarely eating these days anyway and Mrs Hudson kept nagging about it, so I had to go. She even made me dress up appropriately. So, I went down the street when I suddenly saw you at the end of the road. I couldn't believe my eyes, of course I couldn't. You were so far away and your coat was flattering in the icy wind. You looked at me for a moment and then walked away. I know it was just a stranger but that still couldn't stop this damn hope flaring up in me. I asked you for a miracle, Sherlock, and you still haven't answered me. That's rude. But you don't care about being rude, do you? No, I didn't think so. Is it that impossible for you to come back? I miss you, Sherlock. I really do. The people in the street are looking at me. They're staring. When you were still… around it never bothered me. They were staring because they were admiring you. I always felt so proud walking next to you, being allowed to stay that close. That sounds pathetic, doesn't it? But it's the truth. Even if they didn't know who you are, they instantly knew you were something special. It's a pity not more people got to know you. You are so brilliant, Sherlock. You truly are. The people who stare at me now… They pity me. They see poor little John Watson who fell for the great fraud Sherlock Holmes. They look at me for a second and see how miserable I am. But, Sherlock, I still believe in you. You know that, don't you? Maybe next time, when I see you out in the streets, you won't walk away. Maybe next time you'll come home?
Yours truly,
John Watson