It’s crazy for me to say this, but I prefer that you were a druggie than the Britain’s most famous detectives.

Some people would say that I have finally lost it. The Napoleon of crime lost it. No, I never lost it. I just choose to reveal myself. You were my motive. You were my love. My aim since day one.

I always have been watching over you when you’re hiding among those druggie you used to call your homies. Your brother never tell you but he loves you so. I can be his eye witness as I have seen him come and go as often as I did. I doubt you could remember anything as you’re only happy when you’re sorry head is filled with dope.

You truly are something, Sherlock. So unique that I fear for my own life. It doesn’t make sense now is it? Moriarty fearing for his life over Sherlock Holmes? Yes, I fear my life because of your very actions now. Being a unique sociopath that you are, your way of drugs abuse are exceptionally abnormal and creative I might add. I remember I told you once that I hope you make it to the day you’re 28 year old you because I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you.

Nobody will understand my obsession with you. They only know the fact that my obsession is due to my desire to eliminate you. No Sherlock, I’m in love with you and I hate that you’re in a happier place without me. You’re my equal and I’m your equal. We’re meant for each other because we’re each other’s equal. But you got yourself sober and you left me.

The only time I have you with me is when you’re overdosed with all this drugs. You’re beautiful even though you’re dripping like a saturated sunrise. Your mind is spilling like an overflowing sink. You’re a complete mess, ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece of your own. Now I’m tearing through the pages and the ink going through this twisted love nest of ours while you’re trying your best to stay in your safe haven.

I remember the conversation we had. Well, it’s not really a conversation. More like you’re mumbling all sort of stuff that go through that brilliant mind palace of yours while I listen silently. I know what you’re capable of because I have full access and unrestricted into your mind palace. I try to see your face despite the expression you gave, but all I can see is colours. Everything is blue for some reason. Your pills, your hands, your jeans and as I stare at my own face in my memory, I see that now I’m covered in the colour blue. What does this mean? Now I’m pulling apart at the seams as this blue tint on my memory is troubling me. Don’t worry, not many thing can trouble me deeply. Only you, Sherlock.

Now everything is grey. Seriously, what the is wrong with my eyes? Why is everything tinted with colour? But I can’t help what I’m seeing. It could be reflection of my feelings or thoughts, but his hair, his smoke, and his dreams were all grey. And now he’s so devoid of colours that he don’t know what it means. You know what it means, Sherlock. You know what you’re doing. You know what you need. You’re not grey, Sherlock. You’re blue.

Nobody will understand my feeling for you unless I explicitly inform those low life what I see in you especially when you’re in your lowest. I first fallen for you because you were a vision in the morning when the light came through. I don’t know if you remember what happen that day as you’re dope as ever. All I know is that I’ve only felt religion when I’m lying with you, but I’m still waking every morning but it’s not with you.

I used to spend all my time sitting right next to you while you dope yourself up real well, but you’re gone now. I felt empty. Really empty, Sherlock. As much as I hate to admit it, I know you’re never coming back to me. So I decided to be your enemy since I can never be your lover as I know the other thing you love way more than drugs is an interesting puzzle for you to solve. Can’t you see that we’re meant for each other? I understand you way more than anyone else can, but you choose to abandon me for a so-called greater good.