Without you, Sherlock Holmes, my greatest therapy tool has been rendered completely useless. I had to keep a blog for my own wellbeing, did I? It was supposed to help me get better, I was told. It was supposed to help me sort through my feelings and learn how to trust people more after everything that happened in Afghanistan. I was told to talk about even the more mundane things in my life.
Now that blog is my tattoo, my permanent reminder that the one thing I really needed is now gone.
Without you, Sherlock Holmes, I have lost all balance. They said to keep the cane. "You never know when something bad can happen to your leg, with all of the running around you and he do together." As much as I didn't want to listen I had to agree, had to say that everything was still as unstable as before.
Now I stare at it, loathing, eyes boring into it, imagining the metal searing. Every time I reach for it, leg aching, my hand burns, my eyes cloud. My true crutch is gone.
Without you, Sherlock Holme