Chapter Text
Dr. John Watson's secret blog, day 1
The reason eludes me, frustrates me, pains me till I can take no more... It's like being trapped in a box no one can see, like my agony is invisible to the world. Not that I blame them for their disregard of my ongoing torture, I have done well to hide it thus far, even the great Sherlock Holmes can not see what I am hiding. Which is why I'm telling you, I am baring all to you, stripping down my emotions, dissecting them for you to see... Of course all you are is a word document hidden away in the depths of my hard drive, but there is nothing I won't tell you of my day to day battle with my addiction.
Yes, I am an addict. Put simply; I live, breathe and will eventually die an addict. There is no cure for my addiction... Well, there is one, but even the thought of enduring it renders me hopeless, I can't quit, I won't quit!
I suppose, given you are my only confidant, I should tell you what I am addicted to.. After all, admitting it is the first step towards recovery. It burns through my veins like cocaine, it quickens my heart like heroine, it clouds my very judgement of who I am like a D.R.U.G... Yes, you've guessed it: love. Love overcomes me every day of my life, like no one could ever imagined. And who, you may be wondering, is the perpetrator of this feeling? Well that's where this becomes difficult.
From 15 years old I have dated approximately 12 women. I fondly remember Sally Jacobs and her vibrant red curls, and Rosie Charles with her relentless need to shout everything she said... Ok, so they weren't all perfect, but they made me happy, some for longer than others. But throughout the relationships and break-ups, I had not fallen in love. Shamefully, I had said, but never truly meant it. Which hadn't bothered me, because I was happy, some people don't feel that in a lifetime, so who am I to complain? Given my philosophy on the matter I never felt the need to dig deeper in to why I couldn't fall in love. But a year ago I realised, they weren't who I needed, wanted... Desired. A year ago my life changed forever.
My service was over, I had given all I could, I left Afghanistan scarred from what I had seen, but I always had in mind the the thrill of the danger I was leaving behind. But before I could embark on my life, no longer being a soldier, I had to find somewhere to live. I had been walking through the park minding my own business, when the voice of recognition called across the pathway "John, John Watson". An old friend, Mike, we chatted for a while when the topic of my residence came up, nothing heavy, just a general wondering. He had mentioned another friend of his that he wanted me to meet. So once we had finished our somewhat distasteful coffee we walked to a familiar old place where I spent much of my time as a young, heterosexual, student. St Barts hadn't changed all that much, that is of course until we walked into a gleaming white laboratory, every surface covered in instruments, unknown to myself, I walked around them carefully. It was at that point I saw what my eyes met with something my mind did not believe, a man, but not an ordinary one, he was... Beautiful, the word comes easily to me now, but at the time I couldn't understand why I was so drawn to him. He stood, tall and slender, his pale skin resembled that of the smoothest marble, one soft black curl, fell loosely over his deep ocean eyes. I was enchanted. A lot of what happened in that lab is hazy to me, I recall being overwhelmingly impressed by his unforgiving powers of deduction, but when I think of that day, all I know is that is when I realised...
I am in love with Sherlock Holmes.