This is a long, weird post. Just warning you all. Grab a cup of tea and a biscuit <3.
First off, a rec for one of the best things ever, and the inspiration for this post:
Harbor by
irisbleufic; John/Sherlock, R/light NC17; sequel to
Drowning Man, which was also fabulous.
This is the best story I have read in months. Possibly years. Your mileage may vary, everyone has different tastes, but I have
never been happier with the use of emotion in a fic that I can recall - as I said, definitely not in months, and possibly not in years. And I read and adore (and I do mean adore) a
lot of fic.
But there's a very real reason for this one, and it's weird and bizarre but true; it's because it's how I imagine (excepting for the specific circumstances, I'm scarcely a war veteran Doctor or a sociopathic consultant detective) my love story will finally go, should it happen, because I've almost been there before, with tensions lining up just right - unfortunately, it's yet to happen with someone I'm both attracted to
and love as a person rather than an idea. It's that feeling of tensions lining up that
irisbleufic absolutely
nails, spot on. I hope someday I find the Sherlock to my John, or the John to my Sherlock.
Bizarrely, and completely unintentionally, that story just gave me a boost in my faith in love and eventually finding it, at a time when I've rarely needed it more. It's something where I can't really thank the author enough - or at all, because again, it was unintentional! Just a side-effect, one of those curious ones acting as proof that art and prose is always worthwhile because you can never, ever predict the effect one image or one set of words will have on each indivdual member of an audience.
~ ~ ~
( Wavy lines time, it's a flashback to my not-quite-romances! )So, yes; the long ramble and whole point to the post is this; sometimes I get a little lonely, and I wonder if I'll ever fall in love. If I'll ever know that feeling of wanting to be with someone, and knowing they want to be with me, and waiting for one of us to find the moment to
act on it, and this time it not end in my realising I'm basically straight/am not in love with them, just desperately attracted to them/missing out on the chance to act.
And this fic gives me hope, really, really, silly hope, that someday all the waiting will be worthwhile. Benedict Cumberbatch is about nine years older than me, Martin Freeman about 14 ;), and if I have to wait nine years for my John or fourteen years for my Sherlock - well, damnit, it'll be worth the wait <3. Hell, I'm even looking forward to it again.