John is trying to be strong. For me. But I can see the pain, the fear in his eyes. I feel him tremble when he holds me at night, though it may just be from the cold. He is thinner then he used to be. I can feel his protruding bones pressing into me when we sleep. He seems almost… delicate. That was never a word I would have used before to describe him. But he is. He is like hand-spun glass, and if I mishandle him, he will shatter into a million unfixable pieces.
But life on the outside goes on. People come and go. Cabs honk and pedestrians rush about. No one realizes how dull a life they lead.
I have begun to get bored. This is how I know I am healing. Before, I was too distracted to be bored. But now the pain is subsiding, and the dull boredom I feel when not working on a case is creeping lethargically back into me.
I hate being bored.
Being bored makes my brain fuzzy. I can't think straight. Which is why I use nicotine patches. It gives my brain a spark of energy needed to light the fire that is my mind. Without something to stimulate my brain, I feel numb.
I wish I could work on a case. But Lestrade is insisting that I recover a bit longer. And being with John has changed me. My depth of perception has gotten… shallower. My pace of thinking has slowed. Even the little things are hard to focus on. A while ago, I had told John that I loved him, but I was merely affectionate. Then, I was incapable of love. Emotions slowed down my brain.
Which is why I believe that now, and only now, I have begun to truly love John Watson. Not just because he is handsome. Not just because he cares. But because we have been through so much. But because I have seen him at his best, at his worst, at his most vulnerable. I have seen him at the height of a chase, seen him in a state of passionate lust, seen him in my dreams. He is John Watson. And there is not much more to describe him than that.