I was just thinking about how fucked up it is, really, that when John looks at Sherlock it’s like the sun is shining from his face.

Because this is a dude who represses his anger till it comes out in physical violence.

But when he’s with Sherlock, everything is so chaotic and mad and potentially life-threatening that John’s too busy being terrified to remember to be angry.

And that makes him so happy.

I probably shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I do.

I didn’t really mean pining John so much as I meant what fascinatingly fucked-up psychologies we encourage in our fiction.

Not that pining John is bad.  I support that too.

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