The world sees you as a psychopath. Right, a high functioning sociopath as you would correct me now. You have this annoying habit of correcting people, always the need of feeling self-superior. In between all of this I could never make out when I developed an amusing admiration for you. To be honest, you are annoying, wonder what ‘the lady’ saw in you!
I know in a mind palace as yours, it probably is enough to be staying by yourself. Yet, you called John your friend. I know while you’d unravel mysteries with ease, human emotions and concrete social conventions freckle your nerves. Like the time John asked you to be his best man, I still remember the look on your face.
I know all of this may not have been easy for you but what I have seen in you is a constant push, an urge to be better at things that you aren’t good at, just like any other human. It is there where I met you, like any other normal person working through the havocs of life. For me you weren’t a genius consulting detective, you were any other person with issues of his own.
My entire journey through your story only says this enough that emotions and their balance is still what we live for no matter how brilliant one is. It is only being human to be in the pains we feel and overcome; sometimes live with. In you, I see a hope that defies all perfection that helps me unscrew my own flaws and most importantly that keeps me off bothering for them.
When for the last time Mary narrated where we’d find her Baker Street Boys if we were in trouble, I felt a sudden wave of emptiness. Not because I’d miss you working with John and solving crimes but more because I would never see you taking care of ‘Rosie’, and not see you develop any further as a character.
In bits of sniffing cocaine and exhibiting questionable social behavior, you taught me well, Mr. Holmes. You taught me that an epitome of perfection and intelligence can be socially awkward and absurd, struggling with his flaws. Above all, you taught me to care for the people you love the most, even if at times you’d have to fake your own death.
I hope ‘Rosie’ gets to grow up and fill in the voids of her mother, with you and John around there is no question at her being another prodigy. Give my greetings to Mrs. Hudson, I hope she is doing well.
A Fan who likes you for who you are not for the way you think.