Do you like my story? Or part of it, anyway?

Alex

Active member
I'm only barely surviving. Hardly hanging on anymore.
Where are you, where did you go? I refuse to believe that you're gone. You can't be gone.

I'm so used to having you with me and I never imagined you'd leave, never imagined you could do something like this.Am I praying? You always did act like you were the God of everything. If I could just see you...
If I had something concrete, something tangible to hold onto... then maybe I'd be okay.

I'm drowning, Sherlock. I'm drowning. I don't know what to do without you.

When I wake up, and you're not downstairs making coffee, or on that god awful violin, then I know that this is real. I know you're not coming back. But then I see things that make me wonder, I see your coffee cup left out even after I've put it away, I see your violin has moved even though I've never touched it once. I don't know what to think anymore.

Are you here, or are you not?

I guess I'm just being pathetic. Everyone's told me to stop living in the past, that I need to move on. How can I move on, though? How can I move on when everything I've ever loved is right here? Four walls can hold so much. The bed where we slept, the sofa where we'd sit and talk for hours. It all holds memories that I can't let go of.

I want to be free, Sherlock. I want to be okay.


Come back.

Please, please just come back. If you'd just come back, I know everything would be alright.
I need you. I need you like I need air. I need you here and I need you to be okay.

I'm wishful thinking again.

Please just stop it, stop this. If this is all another game, I swear to god I will kill you.
Please come back, just come back.

One more miracle.
One stupid miracle.
Please.
 
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