Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean. Maya Angelou
Read more at . #oaqSf0zdSdr5b89h.99
If friends are the family we choose for ourselves - our tribes of fellow misfits that just get us, even when they really don't, then when in crisis we're expected to turn to them. Wallowing with another is supposed to cut the pain in half, remind us that we're not alone, and even when we can't get back on our feet, we know our friends will sit down with us for as long as we need. Sometimes though, it's just not what you need. Sometimes, you need something else.
They say that, "Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean." (Maya Angleou) Sharing your misery with your friends is something you can only do for so long. You confide in them, you can trust them to understand, even when they don't, but you can never cross the line between commiserating and spreading. Occasionally you get to be angry with your friends, with your lovers, with yourself, but there's nothing quite like the anger of realizing you don't hate the people that you should.
Friendship is healing, but anger can be cathartic, even when it's the last thing we think we need. As a society we are told that anger is toxic. Anger leads to violence, which is never okay. But sometimes, every once in a while, anger gives you answers. It spreads fire through your skin like nothing else. It shoves out all reason and logic, all the lies we tell ourselves to believe that it will be okay. Anger brings clarity. It rips down the walls, bares all wounds clean, and opens us up to the harshest realities. The ones that we run from during the day, because even when we say we want to just understand. We're never ready for the truths that lie beneath the surface.
She hadn't planned on going back out, but it was Christmas. Holidays weren't for her. She had been the good friend. Watching the Christmas lights with her friends and sharing in the moment when they needed her. But after Izzy and George had gone to bed, she was alone. Well, almost.
Doc sat on the couch next to her, looking at her with those big puppy eyes and she couldn't think of anything except that the way he looked at her was the same look of pity her friends gave her when they thought she wasn't looking. This was not why she'd gotten a dog. He was supposed to comfort her, not judge her. Realizing the absurdity of her thoughts, she had to get out of there.
Moments later she was out of the house, still in the process of slipping on her jacket and shoes. Maybe it wasn't in the spirit of Christmas or friendship, but she took off to go find some liquid company for the remainder of the night. She did the family thing for her friends, but now she needed something hard with sharp edges and metallic tastes. She needed something to remember that she was strong, even when she wasn't. Or, she thought to herself, maybe she needed to just admit she was a mess and old habits were comforting. Even when they shouldn't be.
Joe's would be open - she knew that. Joe might be the most reliable person in her life at this point. She briefly considered going to the hospital, work was always waiting, but the thought of facing anyone she worked with was too much. So maybe going to the one bar the entire hospital frequented wasn't the smartest ideas, but no one ever accused her of being logical.
"Hey Joe," she greeted, taking off her scarf and jacket as she sat down at the bar.
Joe gave her a briefly panicked look, but she misread it as concern. He kept looking away from her and discreetly tried to point her to look just a few seats down, but she wasn't paying any attention.
There seats and one stranger between them. Sighing, he figured it would be safe enough to let it go or at least understood that somethings were inevitable. "Tequila?" he asked.
Meredith scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "Not tonight. I don't want to forget, I just want to wallow a little. I think it's time to stop drowning and just for tonight remembering is a little bit better than forgetting. He made his choice and now I'm making mine. At least then I can start to let go."
Harsh laughter erupted and Joe closed his eyes knowing what was coming.
Meredith finally realized what it was that he'd been trying to tell her and with eyes widened she nodded knowingly. "Make it a whiskey," she said, just barely louder than a whisper. She hated the taste of whiskey, but that seemed like a good enough reason to request it now. She didn't need the comfort of familiar vices, she needed something clarifying and fueling. "A double," she added.
The bartender gave her a worried look, but she nodded, sure that she'd be okay. She needed something to steel her nerves, knowing what she was about to do. Rising from the barstool, Meredith Grey made the walk down three seats, each breath screaming in her lungs that it was a bad idea. Self-destruction had always been a hobby of hers though. She'd had many walks of shame in her previous months of drowning her emotions in one night stands, but this one was different. It was inevitable and something about that made it right.
"Addison," she greeted, not bothering to ask if the other woman wanted her company or not. She sat down next to the redhead as Joe placed the glass in front of her. Not waiting for a response she shot back the drink and signaled for another. It felt good to not be running.
"One for me too Joe, just add it to my tab - her's too. Consider it a Christmas gift," she added bitterly to Meredith, who just nodded in return. Since Addison was part of the reason she was here, she wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to let her pay for it as well. If it had been any other night she'd be too proud to let the woman do this, but there was something about Addison's red rimmed eyes and tense posture that made her think it was okay.
She hadn't missed the fact that the other woman, despite her frustration, had relaxed slightly when Meredith sat down. It was subtle, but it was weirdly welcoming in a way she wasn't expecting. "Alright Doctor Shepard, what are we drinking to?" There wasn't malice in her voice, it surprised her. Instead there was a familiarity that they shouldn't be sharing.
Addison cocked her head slightly and looked at Meredith curiously. They weren't friends. They weren't enemies. Silently they'd both decided months ago that there was no use in pretending they hated one another, and yet, being anything other then civil felt wrong. If they'd started to become friends that would put a bigger kink in their situation than Derek ever could.
"We're gonna do this? Really?" Addison asked, knowing that this was not them. Even drunk them, this just wasn't where they should be. Her brow scrunched up in a frustrated look Meredith had never seen. The smirks, the quirked eyebrow, the fury - they were all familiar. This though? It was something that made Addison just a little more human. She was vulnerable and she was tired and Meredith recognized that as something they had in common.
Meredith nodded, more certain then ever. "We're doing this. You wouldn't be here if you weren't just as fucked up as I am. So let's forget work, let's forget him, and let's just think about ourselves for a change. Or at least, not think about anything else." She had the urge to reach over and squeeze Addison's hand, even though she knew she should be pissed off that the other woman was here at all.
Addison tilted her head back and laughed again. There was something softer about it this time, it was still laced with pain and bitterness, but it was softer. "Alright Meredith Grey, in the nature of holiday and the great fucking cheer we're supposed to be spreading let's drink to us. The only two people I know who are slightly more fucked up than the guy who brought us here."
Meredith nodded in approval and tapped her glass against Addison's. They both shot back there drinks and followed by gasping for a quick breath as the fire coursed through their lungs. They shared a quick smile at their mutual reaction, but only quick enough to recognize it. They weren't friends.
"Another round," Addison said to Joe.
He knew better than to argue with them and poured the shots. He also poured them both fairly watered down lemon drops. It somehow seemed appropriate and far less dangerous.
They sat in silence for a few moments, nursing their drinks and wondering why they weren't wondering what they were doing here. Nothing felt awkward other than the fact that they knew it should have.
"He told me that I just needed to deal with the fact that he fell in love with you," Addison said, finally breaking the silence.
"Oh," was all Meredith could say. She stewed over this for a moment. Her stomach hadn't even dropped hearing this confession. It was a strange sensation to realize that the words didn't even matter in this moment. Derek had been in love with her, maybe he still was, but it wasn't enough. He'd made a choice and this was the fallout. "Tonight? she asked.
"Yup. Merry fucking Christmas to me. He finally decides to forgive me enough to start having sex and then just a month later tells me he's in love with you."
"Bastard," Meredith said, taking another sip. "He gets all the perks and avoids all of the fallout. Why do you stay?" she asked. It had been something she'd wanted to know for a long time, but had never dared to ask. She had tried to give them the space to heal, but that had only driven the wedge between them all further.
Addison thought about this for a moment, knowing she didn't have a real answer. "Why do you?" she countered. She knew Meredith had backed off and even nearly pushed Derek out of her life, but it didn't matter really. She was still there.
Meredith chuckled. "Maybe we stay because we don't know what else to do. We're told to fight for what we want, but what if we don't want him. What if we just want to win?"
"Win him?" Addison asked skeptically. She had been putting up one hell of a fight for Derek, but she was starting to realize it wasn't for the man he was now. Maybe it wasn't for the man he'd ever been.
"No, not him," Meredith replied, realizing for the first time, or at least admitting it, that Derek just made her feel worse. "Maybe we're just fighting for our pride. Something that we feel like we should want. He's not McDreamy, he's just an asshole trying to have it all."
"You should have seen his eyes when he told me tonight. He didn't have a single hesitation, he was excited. Something about telling me to sit back and take it - it invigorated him."
"Addison," Meredith said seriously, turning to face the other woman. When the redhead didn't move, Meredith grabbed her by the knees and spun her to face her. "I'm done fighting for something I don't even want - okay, something I shouldn't want. I think you should too. We're the ones hurting and miserable. We're the one's getting jerked around. He shouldn't get rewarded for that."
Addison sighed. Looking up from her lap with tired eyes, she searched Meredith's eyes for understanding. "I don't think he means to hurt us on purpose." Her shoulders slumped in resignation. She was so lonely, even bad love was better than isolation.
Meredith put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently. "That makes it worse." She nodded seriously, trying to make the other woman understand. "He doesn't try to hurt us because he doesn't think about us like that. He thinks about how it turns out for him."
"It hurts," Addison confessed. She didn't know why she was opening up. It wasn't like her. Even though she didn't hate Meredith, she'd never realized how much the younger woman understood her. These thoughts were familiar, even if she'd never been able to indulge them. She was hurting and she was angry and for the first time in so long, they weren't competing. "Why aren't we on the same side?" she asked curiously.
Meredith shrugged and looked away awkwardly. Neither of them deserved what Derek was doing to them, but did they really deserve comfort either? They were participating just as much as he was. Something felt wrong about turning to one another. "I think it's because we're just us. If we open up like this and share, we have to face the fact that he's wrong for both of us. If we admit that, then what's left? Friendship?" she asked, tentatively.
Addison's eyes quickly found Meredith's and then just as quickly looked away. "I don't think I'm ready for that."
Meredith laughed. "Me either, but I'm ready to start letting go of him." She nodded seriously. "What you choose to do is up to you, but just know that - well, we've got this, whatever it is." She gestured towards them. This moment was different. Something changed between them. Something clicked into place.
"I really hate that we're bonding." Addison confessed. "I really hate him." She turned back to face the bar. Sharp edges reaching her features once more. It was a look that dared people to fuck with her and most of the time no one did
"Me too, Addison. Me too." Meredith ignored the truth and this time she did reach over and squeeze Addison's hand. "It shouldn't be this hard. I don't know what we are, but we've got this. Maybe that's enough to realize we don't have him."
Addison smiled even as her tears filled up with eyes. "Grey, you're a lot smarter about this kind of stuff than you give yourself credit for. You're also a lot braver than I am to admit it." She bit her lip until she almost punctured the skin. She needed to feel something other than the emotions swirling between them.
Meredith thought about this before responding. "I think, it's easier to be brave when you see someone else being treated poorly than it is to be brave for yourself. We don't have to be allies in this, but maybe we can be advocates. Get ourselves out of this mess, by recognizing in each other what we can't in ourselves."
Addison's phone on the bar lit up and they both looked down to see it was Derek. "I should ignore it," Addison said bitterly. "Let him worry and wonder for a change." There was something hollow in her voice. A sort of defeated realization.
"But you won't," Meredith said, in resolved frustration. "I don't think I would either just yet." She picked up the other woman's phone and shot Derek a text saying she was headed home. "Just - don't lose yourself in this." She looked up at the other woman with such a powerful need in her eyes that Addison lost her breath.
"You either," Addison said as she exhaled slowly. "You're too good for him Meredith. Maybe it's too late for me, but you can still escape." Her voice was harsh. To anyone else it would have sounded like she blamed Meredith, but the younger women understood. The same fire ran through her veins.
Meredith shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere Addison. I'm not going after him, but I'm not going." The burning sensation of adrenaline and alcohol was comforting. So was unspoken in that sentiment, but she hoped Addison understood. They weren't ready to let him go, but there was something between them that brought them together.
Addison nodded, "I know Mer. Just, try not to turn into me." Her voice cracked and Meredith's heart tore ever so slightly. They weren't supposed to be the ones to fix one another, at least not yet.
"Addison," she said, voice coated in emotion. She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected the desire to save the other woman. Yes they understood each other, they were fucked up in the same damn way it seemed. That made sense to her. What didn't make sense was the pulling sensation in her chest to try to make up for the damage Derek caused.
Addison shook her head quickly. "Not yet," she mumbled, somehow reading the truth in the other woman's eyes. "I'm not ready. I don't think I'm strong enough tonight," she said, somehow promising that there would be a time. "Be safe tonight Meredith. Go home."
"I'm still angry," Meredith said petulantly.
Addison grabbed onto her hand and didn't let go. "Me too." She said, but continued to hold on to the tether that was keeping her in place. She knew she had to go, but not like this. She squeezed Meredith's hand, signaling that she was leaving. Looking at the door with a slight panic in her eyes, she looked back at Meredith and softened.
"Maybe by New Years we'll be ready. If not, at least we have each other." She downed the end of her drink and steeled herself for what she was about to do.
She leaned over and kissed Meredith's temple tenderly. One hand in the younger woman's hair, she held her against her for just a second too long."Merry fucking Christmas Meredith," she whispered, her words harsh, but her tone comforting.
Meredith didn't respond, but she leaned in just enough that Addison knew the gesture was welcomed. "Until next year then," Meredith echoed the sentiment. They broke apart and Addison nodded.
"Joe, make sure she gets home safe when she's ready." She said, passing her card over to him. "I'll pick it up tomorrow." She nodded at his questioning look, certain that she wanted to do this. A moment later and she was gone before either could argue.
"I don't hate her," Meredith confessed to the ever patient bartender. "Do you think I should?"
Joe smiled and shook his head no. "I really don't," Joe said, clearing away Addison's empty glass.
The truth behind fire can be cleansing. Old replaced with new. Wounds sealed shut so they can began to heal. A cauterization of the soul. We need those moments, the pain of understanding, if we're ever going to be able to do the right thing. Christmas is supposed to be a time of good will, but sometimes we need the bitterness and loneliness to realize we want something more. The only trouble is the fire has to go out before you can begin to heal. That doesn't come right away, but maybe it comes from the sources we need it to, not the ones we want.
Anger brings us together in a way that is based on survival. It isn't about feelings or concern or care. It binds us to one another because we need it to survive. Love is about friction, but maybe anger is about love. The drive that pushes us forward isn't always what we want it to be, but maybe it's what we need.
Christmas brings reflection. A microscopic study of the past years and how our life hasn't changed. It's a time of dwelling. There is no change in Christmas only a desire we can't quite put a name on yet. Other holiday's are for plans of change and inspiration. Maybe it's not the season of good will, maybe that's just the sugar coated way people like Izzy try to cover up the truth. Christmas is about understanding the misery of others in a way that is close to empathy, but really just about discovering who we are.
I had been in love with a man that was had been great for me, right up until the point where his angry ex-wife showed up and tempted him back. We dwelled in pain and misery, despite being strong capable women. He dwelled in indecisiveness and a self-service focus that left no room to love either of us. We weren't friends - Addison and I, but maybe we could be something else in time. First we needed to learn to harden ourselves and let him go. In those early days we thought we needed to get rid of each other, but maybe, the hard truth is, we needed to get rid of him.