Disclaimer: I do not own Scrubs or the characters.
All my mistakes are my own. Hell, nobody's work is perfect.
This may appear slightly out of character, but I'm sure everybody can admit they don't dream about unicorns and chocolate pudding after things like this happen to them. I certainly didn't.
One Shot? Two Shot? Three Shot? Four? - You tell me.
Dr. Cox,
I don't know how to start this, so I'm going to start by blubbering like a little schoolgirl and be honest with you. This is hard for me to write, and there's a little part of me that hopes this is just as hard for you to read. What the hell, I reckon you'd have taken one look at the unicorn on the envelope and scrunched this up without so much of a second thought. So, yeah, if you're reading this I hope this hurts.
I never had the guts to say any of this to your face. I don't know whether it's because of the way you looked at me when I was gearing myself up to question the love bites on your neck or the way you balled your hands up into fists whenever I said asked you where you'd been. You scared me, manipulated me, hurt me, cheated on me. This is my payback. This is my goodbye.
I sat in the shower today, thinking back to my first year as an intern. Looking back, it makes me sick to know that I spent most of days conjuring up ways in which I could be closer to you, spend time with you, be liked by you. Guess what Dr. C? I'm not your ghost anymore; find somebody else to follow you around like a love sick puppy. I wonder if you'll do to them what you did to me. I wonder if they'll ever stand up to you, if they'll ever have the guts to take that extra step towards you when you're bright red and fuming. I wish I could have stayed to watch you on your path on self destruction, but even as I fought the doubts I had about handing in my transfer notice, I knew that if I stayed, I'd only be staying for everything I regret. You.
I wonder how many girls names you have called me in the time it has taken you to read this far. Five, six, seven? I get it, I'm a girl, and I'm about to go all slushy and girly on your arse. Guess what, Perry, you're going to sit here and take it. You deserve this much. You lost the love I loved the most. Did you really think I wouldn't notice the lip stick marks on your shirt, the strange bruises on the insides of your arm, the scratch marks on your back? I'd known for ages, and all I'd ever wanted you to do was come to me and admit it to my face. But I'd be damned; you jumped straight on the defensive and started spitting and raging until you were blue in the face.
Who do you think you are, Perry Cox? You've ruined my life, but gee, thanks for the life lessons. I mean, you taught me how to live half alive, to function on the fumes. God, you scarred me in ways that you cannot even begin to fathom. You tore me apart, stole my heart, stamped on it a little and then locked it in a jar. I'm surprised you're not ill. I mean, the ice inside your soul, it's enough to make anybody cold.
I know you're probably wondering what's got into me. I don't blame you, this sounds so much unlike me, it's almost like I'm reading work from a stranger. But that's just it. You messed me up so badly that even I don't know who I am anymore. I possess so many of your mannerisms I feel like a mini Perry, and it's disgusting. It's even more disgusting than the fact I've recently found out you've been asking after me at Sacred Heart. I haven't told anybody where I'm headed, not even Chocolate Bear, so don't even think about shoving him up against the wall and threatening him with one of your mediocre tantrum sessions. I warned him you'd want answers, and he doesn't have any hairs on his head for you to hurt. Ha ha, you lose.
Since I packed my life into boxes and vanished from your apartment, from your life, I feel so much better. I feel stronger, so much so that I know now that I will never again be stupid enough to fall for your apologies, to fall back into your arms like I used to when I was naive and vulnerable. So thank you Dr. Cox, for truly making me one of your own.
J.D.
Don't even bother to try and find me, I'm already on the move. You'll never have me back. How'd you like me now, biatch?
P.S. You're so lucky that I didn't say anything to Rowdy – he'd have got real angry with your face.