Okay, I'm writing my actual stories, I swear, but I was listening to A Fine Frenzy and "Almost Lover" came on and this story just begged to be written until it was practically waving a metaphoric gun in my face. But seriously, go listen to this song. You won't be able to tell me that it's not absolutely perfect for Addison and Alex.

I own nothing. Promise.

She's probably going to really, really regret this in the morning, but honestly, who the hell cares? In twelve hours, she'll be on a flight to LA, surrendering the rain and the man candy doctors and the heartbreak to sun and sand and ocean. Before she does that though, she has to do something. So she pulls out a fresh sheet of paper and begins to write.

Alex,

This is really stupid. I shouldn't be doing this. I'm already regretting it. I don't know how to say all of this. But there are things I need to say so I can leave and move on.

I fell for you. You've made it perfectly clear that I'm completely stupid for it, but it's true unfortunately. I've known all along that I was setting myself up for pain. I've heard everything that the nurses have said about you and, even if I hadn't, my own track record in love has never been exactly stellar. I knew you would break my heart a little the moment you gave up Mark's favor for a surgery with me and if I'm completely honest, probably since you got me a freaking lawsuit.

I meant what I said—I really do think you're a decent guy. I meant it then and I still mean it now.

The funny thing is that I really did think that maybe you felt the same way about me. There were times I caught you looking at me and, well, it took my breath away. But I guess that just goes to show the power of wishful thinking. I've always had a tendency to be completely blind to everything beyond what I want to see.

I'm sorry that I continually forced myself on you, both personally and professionally. But, squishy and pink though my specialty may be, you really do have a talent and I would hate to see it squandered when you could do real good in the world.

I guess I'm writing because I'm leaving and starting over. You gave Mark a vanilla latte and my world stopped. I need it to start moved again. So I'm writing to say goodbye. I'm finally going to free myself from all of this Seattle stuff—Derek, and Meredith, and Mark, and you. I'm finally moving on and it feels good.

I hope you're happy—with Rebecca or with Izzie or whoever you choose. I hope you're happy. I'm moving on and I hope you're happy.

But let me make something very clear to you. You missed your chance with me. I don't know why you'd care, but it's true. That door (and my legs) are closed to you now. I was there before when you needed someone, but I'm gone now. I can't be second best to you anymore.

Goodbye, Alex. I always knew you would break my heart, I just didn't realize it would hurt this badly.

Love,

Addison

By the time she's done writing the letter, she's got tears running down her cheeks, staining the paper. She stares at it for a moment, picks it up, and crumples it up, tossing it at the trashcan. It misses, just barely, just like everything else in her life—almost perfect, but not quite. She can't be bothered to pick it up. She's checking out in the morning anyways. Instead, she crawls into bed and falls asleep.

Goodbye, my almost lover,

Goodbye, my hopeless dream,

I'm trying not to think about you,

Can't you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance,

My back is turned on you,

Should have known you'd bring me heartache,

Almost lovers always do.

I have a proposition for you... this is not the happiest story in the world, but I do have an idea for a second chapter that could make some things happen. But I kind of like the sadness in its own special way, and I don't want to disturb it unless people want it disturbed. I'm usually one to leave well enough alone, but if enough people think a happier ending is appropriate, I don't mind writing one.

-Juli-