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I've been going to a councillor. Trying to get back to normal- whatever that is. My limp is back. Sherlock. I'm trying to get back on track. But every day, when I visit your gravestone, I feel like I swerve back off again. But I just can't bring myself to stop. You meant- mean so much to me, and I just can't let that go. I can't seem to understand why you did it. You and me both know how to disappear off the radar. Why not just run away with me when all this went down? And your 'note'. Oh god Sherlock, the call. That was the worst moment of my life, standing outside , watching my best friend prepare to jump off a roof, talking to him, and seeing your body hit the floor. I couldn't think right. I couldn't even breathe. I still can't. I'm dying without you. Please come home. -JW
It rained today. The sky turned grey, and the heavens opened up. The sun rose today. It's setting right now. The birds sung today. People went to work. Children played. People were born. People died. You see, Sherlock. Life goes on without you. But I don't. Im suffocating in loneliness. Mycroft told me I need a girlfriend. I walked away. Donovan and Anderson finally had the nerve to come up to me today. They asked me how I was. I punched Anderson in the face, and slapped Donovan. Worthless scum. Why wasnt it you who lived? They deserved to be in your place. God, I miss you. -JW
It's been 3 months, today. I still miss you, everyday. I still haven't cleaned out the flat. I sleep in your room, most of the time. Everyone has been encouraging me to go out with them, but I just can't bring myself to leave the flat. Im afraid if I leave, the whole memory of you will leave aswell. My councillor comes here. Delivery groceries. Sherlock. Come home. I refuse to let you stay away any more. 221B Baker Street is our home. Together. And I need you there. Im not dealing alone. I love you, Sherlock. Please come home. Or I will come to you. -JW