Letters To Sherlock

by jessisnotdeadyet

These are the letters that John wrote to Sherlock during the time when he was 'dead'. He left the letters on his grave every week on a Wednesday, starting from one month after the Fall. Includes Johnlock, and these letters lead on to a fanfiction in story form rather than letters which I am currently working on. Mystrade included in such fanfiction. Rated M for later chapters.

12. 02 05 2012

Dear Sherlock,

The days have been getting on, but I feel like they're leaving me behind a bit, because everyone and everything around me is moving forwards, but I'm still stuck in the past. In the time when we were together. Because that's the last time I remember being happy. Really happy.

I don't know how to say this, or how to fully express what I mean, because there aren't enough words in the English language to convey exactly how my mashed-up emotions are working.

What I can tell you with overall clarity is that I miss you, Sherlock Holmes. I miss you with every fibre of my being because you made me feel alive. You opened up the doors to a world where nothing was simple, nothing was dull, and nothing was insignificant or forgotten.

And now it's just so bleak. My future was bleak before you came along, and my life is bleak now that you're gone. Without you, there's nothing for me. I wouldn't be where I am today if it wasn't for you. No Mrs Hudson, no Greg, no Sarah. And I certainly wouldn't have any deductive skills whatsoever.

You were a gift to my life, and Sherlock, you know that when you give a gift you're not allowed to take it away. But you were always a rule-breaker. You took that gift when you took your life. That's not okay, Sherlock. But you can't give the gift back now, can you? So it's pointless even imagining you walking through that door every single night before I go to sleep.

Your John.