Derek went on a date last night. Hours after we broke up. Broke up again.

I have no idea how the interns managed to find out so quickly, but when I walked into their locker room before rounds and a silence fell over the room, I knew there was going to be yet another chapter in the novel that is "Meredith Grey's Fucked-Up Life".

I know he's just trying to forget me. If I know one thing about Derek Shepherd, it's that he's just as much of avoider as I am. His wife cheated on him with his best friend so he flew across the country. I drowned so he became detached and flirted with other women at bars. I finally confronted him about my trust issues and he took off into the arms of that nurse.

It's his major character flaw, and I get it. Everyone knows I have my own special pile of those, (but people are kind enough to not point his out to him all the time).

They don't know the Derek I know. They see this ridiculously handsome, perfect guy. A talented neurosurgeon with bedroom eyes. They see his "McDreamy" smile and fall to pieces. Trust me, I do too. Fall to pieces. All the time.

But he's also beautifully flawed. He's consumed by a need to be the best. The best surgeon, the best doctor, the best boyfriend, the best lover. And everything has always come easy for him. Until he found Addison and Mark in bed together, his life seemed perfect. His marriage might not have been the best behind closed doors but everyone looked up to them. Idealized them. He may not have had children but his career was untouchable. It was enough for him until he couldn't pretend it was perfect anymore. He wasn't in control of his situation and he hates that. He's a surgeon. Of course he does.

I'm a lot of work. I'm needy and self-destructive and I have more issues than National Geographic and I know that. But I'm working on it.

He doesn't like that. He doesn't like that some of my issues have to do with him because it makes it hard for him to forget everything that's happened. He wants me to do as he does. Wake up the next morning and move on without dealing with it. Let whatever the problem is boil and bubble until it overflows.

He's impatient. He's used to everything falling into place for him. I told him I didn't want him to date other people and he took it as a sign that I was going to forget about everything and move on with life.

He was going to keep the kiss from me, like he kept Addison from me. Like it didn't matter that I was trying with him and he was kissing other women. It was all water under the bridge, or whatever.

But it was the straw that broke the camel's back, and the bridge is gone now. The bridge is destroyed, swept away by the overflowing river that is all of our unresolved issues. My dealing with things and his pretending that nothing happened cannot coexist. And I like dealing with things. It's a lot better than not dealing with things and sinking into Puget Sound.

I could tell him all this, but he won't hear me. Why would anyone listen to psychological advice from Meredith Grey? Besides, there's all my communication issues and nothing would come out right. It can't be me, the person who makes him realize his flaws. It can't be me.

I know there's something I could do that would get him to fight for us. The second I move on to someone else, I know he'll be pounding at my door. In Derek's world, everything is fine if he moves on but I have to stay stagnant for him to be able to pretend he's making all the right choices. That he isn't missing out on his one great love.

And that's what we are. I know this because I didn't expect to love anyone. I didn't think myself capable of it. I know that I might have relationships after this but nothing will hold a candle to our forest fire of a thing. I don't know how to describe it, but it's more than just love.

But for now, it's over. He's going to pretend he's moving on and I'm going to let him. If I meet someone, then maybe I'll try to move on, too. But I know the score. If I try to move on, we'll be right back where we started. And maybe, things will be different next time.

Maybe he won't marginalize my trust issues. Maybe he'll realize that he really hurt me. Ran me over with a steamroller, hurt me. And I can't just get up and bounce back from that. I've spent so much time guarding myself from him, from disappointment, that it's hard to make the adjustment.

And he isn't proving me wrong.

Until he does, I'll be here, standing on my side of the river with a hammer and nails and a stack of two-by-fours, rebuilding the bridge. Maybe, hopefully, he'll meet me halfway.

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Author's Note: I didn't plan on writing this when I wrote "Joy in Small Places" but then I thought Meredith deserved to say her piece, too.