Dear Sherlock,
I've really been getting to know Nina; when she's not busy and I'm not at work we go to each other's flat and have coffee or tea. And in the evenings, Mrs Hudson joins us in our flat (221B) and we all have a chat and a drink with some cakes from the shop. It's really nice to have some company. After so long being alone, having Nina to talk to is an absolute pleasure. She's actually quite interesting. Well, she's interesting to me. Maybe not to you because you only find dead people and seriel killers interesting.
Don't be jealous, Sherlock. And don't worry, because she'll never be able to replace you. It's just good to have someone to talk to when I need it. And though she's not half as amazing as you were, she's a decent substitute.
Greg and I met up on Saturday, and we went out for some lunch. We had a bit of a talk about recent happenings, such as this murder. It was some young man in the north of the city. Anyway, his killer's been found already. So if they could work it out that easily, surely it would have been too trivial for you.
We talked about you, actually. But Greg found it quite hard, I think, to say anything he wanted to. He kept pausing and sighing between words. He said that he was still disbelieving that you could ever betray us all like you did. He said that he doubted you, I mean really doubted you, when you ran from the police and held a gun to my head. That was the only thing that really shocked him, and it was what made him believe that you were a fake. The thing that got me was that he genuinely believed that you would have pulled the trigger on me if he'd tried anything. It seems unrealistic to me, and it's strange to think that they saw you as a threatening and sadistic murderer. It's unbelieveable. But that's what Greg told me.
I trusted you so completely that I would never even have considered that. I wasn't scared or worried that your finger might slip and I'd get a bullet through my head. I was fine, just as long as you were beside me.
I'm not fine now.
Your John.