I figured Lexie needs more attention. So therefore I wrote a small memoir-type thing.
That Feeling
You know that feeling when you see something extraordinary, and you just stand there like an idiot? There's nothing you could possibly do, except maybe gawk or mutter to yourself about how extraordinary it is. It happens during those moments when your eyes feel drunk, but yet your mind is sober. It happens when you realize someone might actually love you as much as you love them. It's just stupid moments, actually.
For me, Lexie Grey, there were lots of moments when I got that certain feeling. For example, when I met my sister. Although that's not much of an example, because she has yet to acknowledge me in the way I'd like her to. All I kept thinking was how much I admired her for everything. And then I realized she hadn't done anything for me, so that really just was a fake feeling. A feeling you're supposed to get when you're around an older sibling, and yet I don't think Meredith could ever evoke that feeling.
Or maybe it was when I graduated from med school. I had gone through so much school, and it was finally over with. Finally. My eyesight was fuzzy, and I could hardly see how much my dad was overflowing with happiness. I could feel it. He was so proud for me. And then you sit and think, was he proud that I actually graduated from Harvard? Or was he proud because I was following in Meredith's footsteps?
It was never clear to me how much he cared about Meredith. Growing up, there were times when he never spoke about her, and then there were times when he couldn't stop talking about her. It was all so confusing, that I just felt like I needed to be like her. Because my dad had never been proud of me, not until I graduated from Harvard.
Fuck Harvard.
The feeling can also be terrible. Like when Alex forgot that he slept with me. What was I, a rebound girl? I am not a rebound girl. Far from rebound girl. No, now that I think about it, I'm an intern. Interns are sex-craved and hormonal. That's just what they make it out to be.
And then there's George O'Malley. The guy who failed his intern exam by one point. One measly point. And I never felt pity for him, because I know he doesn't want pity. I don't know what he wants. There are moments when he is fuming at me, and then there are moments when I swear he's about to ravage me. Or maybe that's just what I make it out to be. But whenever he is in a two-foot proximity of me, that feeling is bubbling up my stomach. It makes me feel jittery and nervous.
Is it love? No, not exactly. He doesn't love me. It's completely unrequited. But there are times when he looks at me, and I look at him, and I think it might be, you know, love. But once again, it's just that feeling that makes you think stupid things.
Very stupid things.