Sherlock,
I've... met someone; a woman, a lovely, beautiful woman. Her name is Mary and she is just a joy to be around. I won't ramble on about her too much because I know how you would feel about reading all these feelings I have towards her. Right now we're just friends but I really want it to progress, Sherlock. She's the first person since you… you died who makes me feel better. She helps fill that gaping hole in my chest just a little but it's enough to make everything hurt less and for me it's more than enough. I don't know what it is about her that makes me feel so much better; does she remind me of you? Maybe… Or maybe I see something of you in her, some little kink or quirk that reminds me of you or maybe she doesn't remind me of you and I feel so much better around her because she knows what to say and how to be with me; she's the first person who doesn't call me crazy or gay whenever I mention you or even try to talk about you. She didn't call me weak or fragile when I got so upset when I started talking about you she didn't think I was an idiot spending so much time with you; she's the one, Sherlock. Mary is the one for me, I know it. I can't say she helps me cope with your death, because nothing can help me cope with that. She just eases the pain; she's like my drug, easing the pain away whenever I'm with her. Oh, how I wish you could meet her, Sherlock! I know you would come to like her because she doesn't speak when she knows she has nothing of importance to say, she doesn't judge and she is such an understanding woman. She's also such a strong-willed woman too; don't put her down or else she will serve up the fury hidden beneath such a petite exterior. She's also so smart; she reads, she listens and she observes. She's just… perfect, for me at least.
Don't get me wrong, when she's not around I feel that hole in me open up again and then it hurts even more, it aches and I want to scream. Sherlock, no one will ever be able to replace you, not even Mary. I'm a lost hope, and I think even Mary can see that, but I suppose the reason that she sticks around me is because she sees that when I'm with her I somehow find my way for a short while. I know you're never coming back; even though I've seen people like you around London sometimes I know it's just my mind playing tricks on me, just my desires acting up.
If the roles were reversed, if I would have jumped and you left to watch and see my dead body lying on the cold pavement on a dim London morning, what would you have done? Would you have reacted the same way to it as I did? I doubt it… But I do know it would have hurt you even more because I was your only friend and I would have left you behind and you'd be stuck solving crimes all on your own again. You feel everything on a much larger scale than I do; would you have turned to drugs? Yes, you would have because you're a bloody idiot sometimes… Or you were a bloody idiot.
Just so you know, I never gave away your damn science equipment or threw it away, I'm keeping it, or rather Mrs. Hudson is keeping it because I begged her to. I just feel as though it would be… right. They were your things and I have no right to do as I please with them. Same goes with your damn skull, considering it was your friend at one point if I recall correctly?
As each day passes I come closer to the day that I can say what I should have said to you long before you died; the pain is still as strong as the first day but my self-control is getting better and the day that I'll be able to say it without choking on my own words so I don't destroy myself is on its way, and when that day comes I know I'll finally be able to end these chapters of my life as I set off on a new one.