Song is Someone You Should Know by Lisa Loeb

Who do you think you are?
You're talking so loud
You bury the sound
Of your heart that's singing out

If you asked me today to choose one word to describe me, or my status, you are probably going to get one of three answers. Successful. Divorced. Single. Take your freaking pick. The last two are somewhat of a recent development. I was married for more years than I care to believe I was legal for, and despite what I tell myself, it really shouldn't have lasted as long as it did. But, either way you slice the cake, it's all the same. I am no longer Addison Forbes Montgomery Shepherd. Yeah. Imagine trying to sign that on a check. Good luck. Even though professionally, I've been going by Montgomery Shepherd, I long ago dropped Montgomery on checks. So, what you might ask, does that leave me with. Addison. I'm just Addison. Who the hell is that? To answer that question, I guess you have to go back before I ever was labeled. Which, honestly, in my family, is way too young of an age for anyone. But I was, none the less. At seven years old, my petite mother looked at me one day as I was trying on a dress for communion, and labeled me with a slight scowl of disgust just spewing from her lips.

"Fat." Think I've ever tried on a white dress again? Think again. Even now, I refuse to wear one, even though I long ago lost the chubbiness my mom was referring to.

And where do you want to be?
On top of the world
But you're just a girl
Who forgot what it's like to dream

Fat isn't something that is exactly acceptable when you have money. That's what surgery is for, right? To fix one's imperfections? But what if the imperfections aren't your own? Sure I was chubby, but I was seven. I wasn't pushing the scales close to the brink. Hell, I wasn't even the biggest girl in Mrs. Swabbs homeroom class. Not that my mom would have known that, she never stepped foot inside my school. Either way, whether you're seven or seventeen, that word tends to cause more damage than probably even psycho analysts realize. And believe me. I've seen my share. My mother dragged me up and down the east coast to see different doctors about why a girl like me, so wealthy and well off, would possibly consume more than half a donut in a meal.

Needless to say, my mother probably borderlined Bulimia, whether I realized it then or not. After 12 different doctors assured her that it was perfectly normal for me to eat a whole donut at the age of seven, she flew me to the west coast to see a different kind of doctor. Yeah, that's right. A plastic surgeon. Who would have ever thought thirty years later, I would be in love with one? But that's not the point at the moment. I'm sure I'll get to that later. Because, if anything, Marcus Sloane refuses to be ignored.

Several years passed before my mom found a doctor she deemed capable of "fixing" me. By then, I was fourteen, and probably one of the thinnest girls in my class. If not THE thinnest. But apparently, my mom still saw rolls that seemed to jiggle when I moved, because her smile would strain itself, almost in disgust, every time I laughed. By the time she flew me out to the doctor, he refused to perform surgery on me. Dr. Williams quickly became my hero once he told me I could put back on my clothes. Once my mom left the room, he smiled at me, and told me if anything I needed to gain a few pounds. When I got home the next day, I ate two donuts before dinner, that consisted of a Caesar salad, with no dressing. Revenge had never tasted so sweet as it did that night.

Leave everything behind
But you're so tired
One day you might open up your eyes and find
What you've got isn't what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
What you've got isn't what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
Someone you should know

I remember being in high school thinking that the world was going to end before I ever graduated. The days dragged by so slowly, and the homework never seemed to fade from the huge stack of gibberish that stayed immobile on the desk in my room. But now, high school seems like it was just a blink of an eye. Despite how incredibly awkward those years were for me, and no I will not offer any details of my metal-mouth, star wars obsessed, mother-failing years of my life. And no, that's not what I just did either, if you were wondering. High school can't be summed up in one sentence, at least mine couldn't. But luckily, Most of my awkwardness had vanished by the time I went off to college. Still 100 natural, if you can believe that. I guess once I gave in about the braces, she figured I could wait a few years for a nose job and tummy tuck. Lucky me, huh? She was probably praying that I would gain the freshman twenty, and come home crying for the surgery. I guess it's a good thing that I met Mark and Derek that year.

Of course, a lot of things happened that year, but I probably should have paid more attention. If I had, I would have probably known not to marry Derek Shepherd. But I didn't pay attention, and I did marry Derek, even though I was already in love with the best man since the day I met him at a party. He had an untouched dill pickle in his hand, that strangely was a very close match to the color of my halter top, and asked me if I wanted his pickle. Apparently, that line worked for him quite a bit through the years. But once again, not exactly the point. Of course I laughed rather loudly, and walked off, but I knew, even then, that wouldn't be the last time I talked to that cocky wise ass. Three hours and seven shots of something I don't recall later, my future husband was tucking me into his bed before sleeping on the floor.

I found out years later that I'd puked on his shoes twice, and in his car once. Needless to say, we went car shopping the next day, and I bought him a BMW, and got rid of that cot we'd kept from college. Well, by got rid of, I mean we gave it to Mark so that he'd actually have a piece of furniture in his apartment besides a tv stand and a recliner, both located in the living room. I'll never understand how he got so many women, but then again, with pickup lines that involve actual pickles, who can really resist?

You try to hide between the lines
Of a story never told
But I've seen you run away
You're afraid of the fall
The weight of it all is too much

It wasn't that we ever got rid of Mark from our lives. We didn't. He was always around. But for the first ten years of my marriage, he was only around when Derek was, which made it pretty easy for me to dismiss my school girl- like crush on him. I guess I always thought he was the Danny Zuko and I .. I was even worse than Patty Simcox. I think a small part of me always wanted to be his Sandy, the girl he would change for, but I never listened to that part of me, because that was also the part of me that told me to let my mom meet Derek over a four course meal. Not only did her eyes nearly pop out of her head after the first course in overwhelming shock, she nearly vomited when I dared to touch a piece of cheesecake for dessert. That night was probably the closest I've ever come to purging in my life. But the thought of being anything like my mom was enough to make me want to add twenty extra pounds, just to be safe.

Anyway, About two years ago, Mark showed up at the house, unannounced, on my only day off for a week and a half. Apparently Derek just couldn't tear himself away from a case that he'd been involved in for days. So I'd been sitting on our black leather couch with my face mask on, eating chilled sliced apples, when I heard a knock on the door. The thought that it could be Mark hadn't even crossed my mind before I opened up the door to our brownstone in a pink robe that matched the towel that was keeping my hair out of my face. If I could pinpoint a day where my marriage began to fail, it was definitely that day. At least on my end.

I didn't expect him to stay long when I offered him to come in, and I definitely didn't expect him to eat the rest of my apples dipped carefully in caramel sauce. No matter how intense my glares became, his bites only got bigger. Two hours had passed when the Chinese food arrived with a bottle of wine. Sure a red flag might have reared it's head slightly in the way of my judgment, but I was too lonely to care. We didn't do anything wrong that night, or on my next day off, hell, even the next. But somewhere along the way, the line between Mark being Derek's best man, and my best man became too blurry to distinguish.

But you might change your mind
If you'd stand up one day
You might open up your eyes and find

I wasn't lying when I told Derek it was the first time I slept with Mark. It was. But I'd realized I was in love with them long before that. Even admitted it to myself several times, especially when I was cradled in his arms, supposedly crying over Derek's absence. I did miss Derek, that wasn't a lie. We were practically the perfect couple to anyone outside our walls. And Mark . Yeah. Another label, lucky me, huh? I loved Derek, hell I still do, but I don't think it's in the way your suppose to love your husband. He's never once made my stomach knot up from nervousness, my palms never got sweaty just thinking about our last or next kiss. We were just best friends, but when you never see your best friend, things tend to change. And change they did. Knots in my stomach practically became a normal feeling, and sweaty palms had practically became my trademark whenever Mark was around. The sight, even the thought, of his lips anywhere near me was enough to drive me to a cold shower. Three months to the day after our first forbidden kiss, and one, possibly two, bottles of champagne too many, I was caught in the throws in my husband's bed with his best friend, and all I could think of is why the hell is he here? That's wrong, right? He was just.. never home. Mark practically had a closet in the guest room, and Derek had practically moved all of his stuff into his office. Mark told me all the things I wanted to hear, and in true Mark fashion, he said them in my weakest moments. How can three little words build and break your entire world?

How do you keep it up?
It's all just a front
A dangerous stunt
You're gonna come down soon enough

Two weeks after Derek left to come to Seattle, Mark showed up, once again unannounced, at the house with several bags of food, each undoubtedly for each part of the meal. Mark had always hated the idea of eating at one restaurant for a whole meal. In his eyes, there was no one place that had the best of everything, and he would not settle for less than the best. I guess I always have been a sucker for the sweets. Too bad he wasn't holding a sucker when I met him, my whole life might have been different. But then again, I stopped asking what if a long time ago. Might as well ask what if I've never been born. I hadn't seen him since Derek walked in on us. He'd called several times, but I didn't know what to say, so I never answered.

My mom had been by earlier that day, apparently the news had spread to her somehow. Probably Mrs. Shepherd. Sometimes I wonder if I married Derek for his family. They are all so amazing. Teresa is so strong and outspoken. She'd given me more motherly advice than my own mother. I hope one day she can forgive me for what I've put Derek through. Then of course, there's his sisters. Nancy, the oldest of the Shepherd clan, and by far my favorite, not that I would ever admit that to anyone. She loves me without question, and I will always extend the same courtesy to her. Then there's Megan and Alexandria. Both sweethearts, but being the two youngest, always stayed closer to Derek. They were always nice to me, but I always got the feeling that they'd been the same to anyone Derek brought home. They'd probably love Meredith just the same. If anyone needs some family support, it'd be Meredith.

Anyway, she had the same look she always had when I'd somehow inevitably let her down. But this time, I already felt bad enough. I didn't care. I sat and watched the tv mindlessly as she went on and on about how I could ruin my perfect life. Maybe she does think I live the perfect life. Dad is always on the road for business, and she seemed perfectly content. She'd come and gone in half an hour, and I was none the wiser. It was hard not to blame all my issues on my mother. She was such an easy target, no matter how far she lived away from me.

By the time Mark showed up, I was wallowing in self pity, drowning my sorrows in a pint size container of chocolate chip cookie dough. Yes, Ben & Jerry's if you must know. Best damn ice cream I've ever had the pleasure of tasting. Some people think that you haven't tasted ice cream until you go to Italy and have a gelato. I think they are sadly mistaken. B&J is lethal, but it is the epitome of heavenly bliss. So if I have to trim off five seconds of my life for this pint of ice cream, then so be it. Of course, he instantly took the ice cream away from me, replaced the lid, and stored it into the freezer. Then, he made his way back to me in the living room and threw me over his shoulders. Receiving no resistance from me, he sat me down on the white marbled counter beside my sink before making his way to the garden tub that rarely got used due to the crazy schedules of its owners. I watched as he waited patiently for the water to heat up before placing the stopper in the drain, allowing the water to mix with the vanilla scented bubble bath, filling quickly to the desired height. Once satisfied, he turned back towards me, hesitantly deciding whether or not I would get in there without him. He was probably right, there's a very good chance I would have walked out of the bathroom behind him, headed straight back for the couch. Luckily, he knew me well enough to know to shut the bathroom door, even though no one else would be in the house. He slowly made his way over to me, a small caring smile on his lips as his slightly trembling fingers made their way to hymn of my XXL t-shirt that easily consumed 3/4 of my body as I sat on counter. I couldn't help but smirk at his unsteady hands, they were much more steady when we first went through these motions, even if they were in a drunk haze throughout the house.

An hour later, we were both still sitting in the bubbly water, although it'd long ago lost it's heat. I refused to get up for fear that he'd leave me. So instead, I laid there against his chest, breathing in the calming scent of his cologne, mixed in with the bubbles, and relaxed. The first time he asked me, I was certain I'd been mistaken. But as he wrapped his strong arms around me, and repeated the question, yes was the only answer I could think of. I was going to move in with Mark Sloane, no matter what any of our friends or family had to say about it. Why'd they need to know anyway?

Open up your eyes
Don't be scared
You might find you had it all the time

That night, Mark repeated the words that I'd somehow convinced myself my brain had made up to excuse my actions. We were lying together on the couch with nothing but a sheet from the hall closet for warmth when he leaned against my ear and whispered the words. As cheesy as it sounds, my breath actually caught in my throat, and I had to forcefully swallow it to return color to my cheeks. I turned to him with a smile on my face and returned the sentiment. I did. I do. I have always loved him. No matter what it took for me to get to that point, it didn't matter. We were there, and I was certain I'd never been happier. Another two weeks passed, and all of my clothes and necessities had made a home at Mark's bachelor pad. I will be the first to admit that it took some getting used to. His apartment had very little more than the bare necessities which was a sharp contrast to the home I'd shared with Derek. But then again, it was a sharp contrast to the relationship I'd come to know with Derek.

Four months passed with no signs of trouble. I'd finally even contacted my lawyer about drawing up divorce papers. Enough was enough. Derek, from what I'd heard, had moved on, and I was absolutely in love. We were in love, atleast that's what I thought. Leave it to Mark to make me question everything in a matter of a split second. It was a Monday. Classic worst day of the week. I'd gotten off early of my supposed to be 34 hour shift to go home and surprise Mark. Turns out he had a surprise of his own. I walked into the apartment, and knew something was off. Nothing looked out of place, but there just a feeling. An all consuming feeling of guilt in the apartment that I couldn't shake off. I called out his name several times, knowing he was home because of his car outside. I didn't receive a response, so I assumed he was sleeping. Sadly, I was pretty far off. I walked into the room to find him slamming shut the closet door, with nothing but a sheet around his waist. I could smell her perfume in the room, and it made me nauseous, my knees quickly becoming weaker than I could overcome. Too afraid to sit on the bed, I propped myself up against the wall, tears filling my eyes before they even traveled to him. "How can you do this to me?" I whispered before making my way to the closet and opening the door, revealing my worst fear. A blonde, no doubt a nurse, trying her best to slip on her skirt without knocking anything over. I'm surprised she succeeded since the closet was practically slam packed with both of our things. Donuts filled my mind before I quickly made my way out of the bedroom, into the bathroom, instantly heaving over the toilet, ridding my stomach of the contents that I'd consumed, probably for days. I tried to stop several times, but every time I heard her move around or try to whisper something, the violent turbulence overtook my stomach once again, refusing to accept any contents into my stomach.

It was an hour before I left the bathroom. Mark was sitting in the hallway beside the door, his head cradled in his hands. He looked so helpless, like a little child who ate a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner. I almost wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be alright, but that would be a lie. I wouldn't ever sleep in that apartment again, and we both knew it. So instead I shook my head slightly and turned towards the bedroom, holding my breath as I entered the closet for my suitcases. Two hours later, I was at the airport, headed for Seattle. I was getting a new start, with or without Mark. Without anyone if needed.

What you've got is what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
What you tried so hard to hide
It was there between the lines
Of the story never told
Of someone you should know

I don't know what came over me when I got here. I had absolutely no intention of getting back together with Derek, but when I saw him with Meredith, all I could picture was the blonde in Mark's closet, and my blood just boiled, and my stomach was just aching for release. So instead, I marched right over to him, and inevitably brought Satan out in his designer shoes. Derek always said there was a reason my hair was red.

I guess it doesn't really matter why it happened, none of it was nearly as painful as when Mark showed up, and hit on Meredith. Fighting the urge not to run to the nearest muffin cart, or the nearest bathroom, i watched in sheer horror as Mark quickly found a spot on the tiled floor with a gash from Derek's fist in his face, which made me strangely happy. How dare he hit on HER of all people. Then have the nerve to ask me to meet him at Joe's to come home with him. Like I want to sleep on that bed ever again.

I cried myself to sleep that night at the breakfast table as Derek laid comfortably on our bed, clearly not at all concerned whether I'd be there in the morning. I wanted to meet him so badly, but I just couldn't. By then, I was determined to work on my marriage. He was just too little too late, not matter how amazing the too little felt. I'd almost lost Derek in a bomb explosion, I couldn't lose him on purpose. I just couldn't, not again.

What you've got is what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
Someone you should know
What you've got is what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
Someone you should know

I should have known that it wouldn't be that easy to get rid of him after I called him here. It was just suppose to be one night, but Mark never had been one to follow the rules. I guess I should have known that. I just never expected him to close his practice and move here. Plastics in Seattle? Who is he kidding? Much less at a teaching hospital? No matter how much I complained, and told him to leave, I can't deny how good it felt to have a familiar face. Given, I'm not exactly Satan anymore, I'm not exactly an angel either. This will always be Meredith's hospital. I was slightly surprised when they didn't get together as soon as, if not before, the ink dried on the divorce papers, but I was happy none the less. Derek is a good guy, he deserves to be with someone who can make him happy. I think she can do that. Well, as for me, I've been thinking about moving back to New York. Not necessarily with Mark, but just because New York is my home. Savvy is there, and for better or worse, so is my mother.

I guess only time can tell what it will bring. Until then , I guess I will just be walking with ghosts of who I used to be.

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