It’s like we’re all idiots.

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We’ve all got something, that one thing that drives us and shakes us up so much that we can’t believe the rest of the world doesn’t experience it too.

There are so many cultures and subcultures and diversions that, well, I’ve gotten a bit Sherlock about it all. And the BBC show Sherlock has really gotten to me.

For years (really YEARS) I didn’t get it. How couldĀ  show with 3 measly episodes become so powerful, so amazing, so enthralling that its fanbase rivaled BTVS and LOTR? Perhaps not rivaled, but ranked up there with the best of them? I just couldn’t understand it. So I ignored it. For years.

A couple weeks ago I finally took the plunge. I figured that, well, I might as well give it a shot.

It seriously changed my life, put so many things in perspective, and really shook me to the core.

I don’t want to get all fangirl on WordPress, especially after purposely moving this blog from my account Loves Fanfiction, but I have to say it–I’m in love with Sherlock and John Watson, and not as a pairing or because they’re real slick. I’ve watched so many TV shows, watched so many movie series where I know so much about the storylines and have gotten so used to the predictability of the dramas and relationships that I never look forward to seeing anything besides what happens next. I don’t really care about the characters, I just want to get to the good stuff, the story, the resolution of the end of the last episode or the last scene of the previous film.

I’m the ultimate HP fangirl–everyone knows that. I’ve dedicated whitepapers, essays, presentations, my college career to sharing fan-created stories and artwork, and how powerful it is. How addicting it is to know that there never ever has to be an ending. That nothing’s ever set in stone.

I remember the excitement at seeing the second Harry Potter film, the Chamber of Secrets, even more so than seeing the first. It was because I’d spent so much time reading the books, studying the characters and scenes, and watching and re-watching the first movie, that I just couldn’t wait to see Harry again. I couldn’t wait to see Hermione, and Dumbledore, and the Weasleys.

After the first episode of Sherlock, I was hooked. I just can’t believe how hooked I was, how much I was anticipating the next episode. And not to see what happened next (because I didn’t have any idea), but to see Sherlock and Dr. Watson again, together, interacting, relating, shifting. And then after I saw the second, it was again with the third episode. It was my little end-of-the-week treat, to absorb myself in the characters, not the story, again. Their relationship is so instant, and John is such a wonderful facility in Martin Freeman. The doubt, the awe, the thoughtfulness… Being a mental slave to Sherlock like the rest of us but still having so much of his attention, the attention everyone wants from the ones they admire.

I think I got lucky though. I held off watching for so long that, unlike the rest of the world, I finished the second season just as the earth-stopping first episode of the third season debuted. That was actually justĀ a few days ago, on PBS.

To know that people, even the actors themselves, have literally been waiting for 2 years for the next chapter is beyond me. I’d die. I’d write a few hundred thousand words of fanfiction first, but then I’d probably combust. Not just because of the beyond major cliffhanger, but because of how much I’d miss seeing them together. Just the day or so I waiting before watching the latest episode on TV was too long.

I was literally smiling the entire time, just to see John again. Just to see Sherlock put his coat back on again, and their electrifying chemistry again. Seriously, you can’t write the chemistry they have. It’s heartbreaking magic.