Sunday, 22nd.
Damn it! Why did he leave? Why did he have to mess things up? Selfish, pompous twit. He jumped. He bloody jumped off a building and killed himself. He said he was a fake. I don't believe him. He spoke so fluently, filled with confidence and sometimes a tiny hint of trepidation. Never false, never fake. Just, so... Him...
I believed him up until that day. He never lied unless there was a very, very good reason to. And that hardly ever happened anyway. Everything that came out of his mouth was true, except those words. They hurt, deep inside. Like someone had stabbed me in the gut over and over again.
The things that get me are the people. The witnesses. They say they heard a gun-shot a few minutes before he jumped. Lestrand said he found a small pool of blood, but no one found a body. It wasn't his blood. And the guards at the bottom said no one went out after. No trace of the person injured.
He was my only friend when I came back. I placed my life around him and him only. And now that he's gone, I have to completely change my life. It's harder than it sounds, but I've tried. I've really tried. It doesn't work. I went to 5 different job interviews, but I got distracted on each. They all told me they'd get in touch, yet three weeks on from my last interview, no word has been given. At all.
I quit my old job as the 'Consulting Detective' after he went. I refused to talk to anyone or do anything with the team. They just weren't him. As good as they were, they'd never live up to him. No one ever will. Hopefully, in time, I'll learn to face the future and leave the past.
John.