Dear John,

What am I supposed to say? I don't think it can all fit in one letter, but I don't want to miss anything out. Am I meant to apologise for everything I've done wrong? That would be apologising for being myself. Am I meant to say how much I miss you? Because that's just pining about could-have-beens. Argh, this is frustrating. I'm not a letter person. Once you write something in pen you can't go back neatly, so I'd better make sure every word counts.

Yes, that's right, I'm writing a letter. I don't do that very much. But apparently it's more personal than an email, and… I wanted to get it right.

Look, I've already messed some of it up. I've got to be more careful. In order to do that, I suppose I'd better get to the point. Also, I'm worried Mrs Hudson will come in in a minute and I don't want her to find me like this I mean, get sentimental again.

What I wanted to say is: thank you.

Thank you for showing me how to appreciate the small things in life, thank you for keeping me in line. Thank you for teaching me how to feel, how to love, how to hate. Thank you for getting angry at me for not caring, thank you for making me care, even if I hate the way you did it.

I've never wanted to thank someone before, I was that selfish.

When we first met, you don't know how close to the edge I was. I could already see the pattern of the waves below. I was on drugs. I smoked. I was, to put it bluntly, an idiot.

Then I met you, and I realised that friendship did exist. That people did care about me, that the whole world wasn't grey, that the night did have a morning. I realised I didn't have to be alone.

I hate you. I hate you for what you put me through when you left. I hate you for making me see that people don't just stay as long as you want them. I hated recognising that I could get hurt, even by friends.

But I still want to say thank you, because I deserved everything I felt.

Thank you for teaching me to love this terrible, beautiful world.

This is my goodbye – funerals are irrelevant.

And, having said that, I suppose that calls for the end of the letter.


Sherlock Holmes.


-That, I'm afraid, is it, folks. I hope very much you enjoyed it, I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thanks loads for all the reviews and favouriting/alerting! I really appreciate them. Right, now, if any of you want a oneshot relating to this story, a scene I haven't put in it, just PM me and I'll probably write it in a oneshot. And if you don't want a oneshot, that's good too. I've grow attached to this story. Anyway, for fear of me going on and on, this is most sadly: the end.