There are questions that seemingly have no answers. What is the point of life? What comes after life? Who is God? If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? But there is only one question that has no answer. What is love?
Everyone seems to have their own definition for it. Webster's dictionary defined it as "a strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties." Robert Frost said "Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired." George Bernard Shaw said "Love is a gross exaggeration of the difference between one person and everybody else." Plato called love a "grave mental disease." So is love a good this or is a bad thing? What is love? No one will ever be able to answer that question.
Love can't be diagnosed. Either it's there and you know or it's not and you know it. That didn't apply to Addison Montgomery. She thought she loved Derek. She thought he was the love of her life and vise versa. She was wrong. Then came Mark. And Mark was the exact opposite as Derek. She loved him no matter how much she told herself that she didn't. Both men broke her heart. Broke men left her. Both men chose other women over her. The only two men she had ever believed she loved didn't love her back. She was the last person to say she knew what love is.
On occasion she doubted the existence of love. Was is really even a logical emotion? How could she know that it wasn't only exsistant in her imagination? Because from what she saw, she was the only one in any relationship she had been in to be the one in love. Mark and Derek may have claimed the feeling but was there any real meaning behind the hollow words?
Addison knew exactly what the point of life was. At least she knew what the point of her life was. She wanted her life to make a difference, which she had already accomplished in her 35 years of life. Her existence had saved more than one other life, she'd saved countless. She made a difference to preserve the happiness of more than one family. But that was a small percentage of what the point of her life was. As a child, Addison had dreamed of meeting her Prince Charming. Something she thought she accomplished by marrying Derek. She was wrong. He wasn't her Prince Charming and he wasn't her definition of love. That was the new purpose of her life. To define love.
Mark Sloan on the other had never given thought to the word. He said it because it was created to let someone know that he had feelings for them. He had only said it to one woman and that was Addison, at least she was the one person he said it to with sincerity. The rest were all to help himself get into women's pants. That was no secret. Mark Sloan would tell a woman he loves them after one week if that would score him more time in the sack. He understood exactly why people questioned his honestly. Correction, he didn't care if people questioned it. It bothered him that Addison questioned his love for her. Being as she's the one person he has and could ever love, he hated knowing she doubted him.
"What are you doing?" he asked, walking toward her to see what was the giant book she was reading. He pulled it away from her and checked the cover, raising his brows slightly. "You're reading the dictionary?" he asked with amusement as he set the book back down in front of her, prompting her to go on with what she was doing.
"First of all, I'm looking up a word. And second...there is nothing wrong with reading the dictionary." she answered. "I used to in high school."
"And you wonder why Skippy Gold was the only one who asked you to prom. If you read trashy porny novels every guy in that school would have asked you." he said. "What word are you looking up anyway?"
Addison looked up at him. She wasn't sure if she should tell him the truth. She looked on the page, considering the other words she could say. She could claim she was looking up lout or louvain or lovat. She had no idea what the hell any of that meant and she was sure that neither did he. "I'm looking up the definition for love." she answered truthfully.
"Love." Mark repeated. "That's like the easiest fucking word on the face of the planet. Why the hell would you look that up? Look 'pointless' up after you're done. It'll define what you're doing."
"If I wanted your say in the matter I would have asked for it." Addison answered. "Besides, if you're so sure of yourself, I would love to hear your definition."
Mark froze. After a second he shrugged his shoulders and said, "It's a feeling, a connection. A bond you share with someone because of how they make you feel. Love is...a feeling."
"A good feeling or a bad feeling?" Addison replied instantly.
He stared at her for a few more seconds, trying to understand where all this was coming from because he sure as hell wouldn't expect anyone to sit there and give it so much thought. "I'm not sure." he finally answered. "But you say it like you've never felt it."
"I have felt it, that's the problem." she explained. "Because in the beginning it was amazing. It was great, it was a feeling like no other. I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. In the beginning it's everything you would think it's suppose to be. But in the end it's the opposite. It's horrible and heartbreaking. It makes you wanna die and never feel it again. It's the worst thing to happen to humans since murder. So I'm not sure if it's good or bad."
He sat down next to her at the nurse's station. Although he wouldn't admit it, she had drawn him into the thought. Mark sat in silence, trying to think up a definition. Was it good or was it bad? He too ended up wondering if it was even real enough for him to be questioning it. He hated her for planting the thought in his mind. Which sparked up the question as to what hate was. "What is hate?" he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. "The feeling that comes right after love." she answered. "Although, it's more toward yourself than at the other person."
"You know what?" he finally said. "This is stupid. You wanna know what love is? I'll tell you what love is. I loved you, no... I love you. Present tense not past. I would die for you if I needed to, if you asked me to. When I'm around you I feel like there is no one else around me. Every time you smile I swear my heart beats faster. And no matter what you do, I still love you and I don't know why! It's this crazy feeling and you're the only person on the face of this fucking planet that can make me feel like that. It's never 'sex with Addison', at least it never was when we were together, I made love to you. It was love, it wasn't sex. It wasn't fucking or screwing or banging. It was love. That's the definition of love. Okay?"
"I'm not sure that's an appropriate definition to put in a dictionary." Addison smiled, sending his heart race. That had to be love. That was exactly how she felt about him. "You would have saved me so much trouble if you'd given me the Mark Sloan definition in med school. It would have saved me one painful marriage and there never would be an affair. We wouldn't be adulterous whores."
"I never told you because I never thought you care about how I felt about you. While we were together, you made it seem like I was the last person you would love."
"I did love you, do love you..present tense. I just never wanted to admit it to myself because I never thought you would feel the same. I didn't want to have my heart broken by admitting to myself that I love only to have you not love me."
"Is that even possible?" Mark asked. "To not love you, that is. Because if you thought that I couldn't love you than you're a whole new level of ignorant. If I kiss you are will you slap me again like you did when I came out here...for you might I add."
"Give it a try." she smiled, not pulling away when his lips brushed against her. She didn't care that he was biting her lower lip, he didn't care that he would have lip gloss all over his mouth when he was done. Neither one cared that they were in a hospital, on a work day with dozen of people who's eyes were fixed on them. They had just discovered the meaning of love, they had cause to celebrate with a inappropriate kiss.
Addison pulled away after a few seconds longer. She smiled, her arms still around his neck, her forehead against his. "I don't think we could fit our definition of love in the dictionary." she whispered, giggling when he responded with a few pecks.
"I'm not sharing that definition with anyone." Mark assured. "If we tell people what love really is, Addison, it'll cause chaos. No one else alive will be able to claim 'love' for anyone because it wouldn't be our definition of love. It would be some bullshit way of looking at it. Everything will come apart and people will kill each other. I kid you not.. it would be up to us to repopulate the world. Not that I mind but.. still. I'm a mean person. I don't like sharing."
Addison laughed, she had to agree with him. No one would be able to claim love because nothing would match their definition of it. They answered the one question with no answer. What is love? Love is pain, love is sorrow. Love brings smiles and tears. Love lives even after you think it's died. Love is love and no other word would could sum it up, no other definition could explain it.
I was listening to "What is love" by Haddaway (from night in the roxbury) and this somehow popped into my mind. Hope you guys like it. :)
It's just past midnight here in LA, tomorrow is my first day back from Spring Break and I have no idea how I'm suppose to wake up at 6:30 (cause it takes me forever to get ready). Especially after 10 days of sleeping at 3am and waking up at 10 or 11.
Review!