I had an idea while reading my trashy magazine on the train home. And I tried to purge the idea out of my mind but it grew instead. And then I thought of a poem that I had to write an essay about back when I was 16... and.... I had to write this. :) Hope you all enjoy my experiment!
I haven't ever written a POV fic, I prefer to write in 3rd person because you can include many people's thoughts. But this one spoke to me in Mer's POV only...I don't know if this will work, but I think it's a cool and original idea, so I'm willing to try, and it's not as if anyone cares anyway...
I'm grateful I'm going back to work tomorrow. I was going stir-crazy, especially for the last few days where I've felt fine, but have still been cooped up inside this house.
I mean, I was so bored I tried reading 'Anna Karenina' for god's sake. I reached page ten, before I either fell asleep or wanted to poke my eyes out with a pencil. People say it's one of those classics you have to read, and I've tried, but for the love of god, it was a boring book. I remember having to read it for my core literature class in my freshman year at Dartmouth, and I just read the cliff notes and made up the paper the night before the deadline. I still got an A though. Go me!
The other week, I realised exactly how much junk I have in this house. Not only is it all of my junk, but my mom's too. I guess I inherited my 'pack-rat' hoarding trait from her. I cleared out my nightstand drawer the other day, and found my diary from last year. I flicked through it, reliving the whole of last year in one hundred and four pages of my 'week view' diary. It's odd to think about how much my life changed last year. When you're going through it, you don't think about it. But it started with me and Derek doing that whole 'sex and mockery' thing and ended with us actually being together and happy. The bit in between all that was the hard part, that trial part where I was seeing Dr. Wyatt every week. I can pinpoint the day I decided to give up on the 'psych crap'-there's that scrawled out appointment, crossed out several times in an angry red coloured pen, I pressed so hard you could see the mark through several pages. I'm glad I went to see her though. I needed someone to kick my ass into the realm of self-awareness, which I guess is something I didn't possess before. It's ironic, because if I didn't have self-awareness now I'd never realise that I didn't have it before I did and… I think I understand what I'm saying. So anyway, thank god for Dr. Wyatt for making me face tough questions, because if I didn't, I don't think I'd have had it in myself to just live and let live with Derek.
Sometimes, I think like the old me, the person I thought my mom had taught me to be and I think 'why the hell did you give Derek another chance when he was such an asshole? You let him off the hook, and he was to blame for it all too- well, at least partly.' But then I realise- my Mom did that with the chief and where did that leave her? Sad and lonely and pining for him all his life. People say that there's this horrific moment in your life where you see yourself turning into your mother, and that happened to me at that time. I saw myself being too stubborn, waiting for Derek to admit his role in the breakdown, and sometimes, you have to take the hit, swallow your pride and at least admit your part in it all, without expecting the same back. Because would it have been worth not having Derek in my life just as on a matter of principle? Principles don't kiss you in the morning or hug you or tell you they love you.
Speaking of love, yesterday I found something cute in one of Izzie's 'chemo cosmos' – you know, the magazines she read to try and distract herself from the chemo dripping into her vein. I read this little blurb thing about the different ways men say 'I love you' and I was thinking back to Derek, and I guess they're true- you know, the ones they say when they're trying to get out of something, or when they want sex, or when you do something silly. I thought it was just a Derek thing, but it seems it's a man thing. I feel stupid thinking it was unique to Derek, until I think about how he's the first, real, grown-up relationship I've had. People go through several relationships, making mistakes with different men until they find that one they commit to. I did it differently, sleeping with a LOT of men, not getting close to anyone before I met Derek I have to trust him to know what other relationships ought to be like- I have no previous experience of my own. Then I guess somewhere along the line I gave him my heart and he took it, and ground it up into hamburger and gave it back to me. All my breaking-up and making-up has been with him. Sometimes I think I was kinder on him because I blamed it all on my inexperience, putting it down to the thought 'Meredith, you know shit about real lasting relationships-you had a crappy childhood and have serious attachment issues, and OF COURSE you are the fucked up one' when really Derek was a dick too. I mean, he did decide to do whatever he did with Rose while I got whole and healed.
He's not perfect.
But neither am I.
Maybe we're equally imperfect.
At the end of the day, when you're sighing with relief as you slip into the sheets, I always think 'are you happy?' And with Derek, most of the time, the answer is yes. That's impressive, considering I am a 'glass half-empty' person- well, the glass isn't just half empty, I'm afraid it will never be full. But with Derek, it doesn't really matter, because whatever is in that glass is the good stuff anyway. It's better for the glass to have a shot of really good tequila than for it to be full of nasty, bitter orange juice…maybe there's a better analogy than that, but it makes sense to me.
Most of the time I was wishing I was back at work, which sounds crazy considering when I'm at work, I wish I had time to wash my underwear, because I don't have any clean pairs left, or that Derek and I could watch that movie together, or that I could think about clearing some stuff out of the downstairs closet because there is so much crap in there, I am scared to open the door of it. With all this free time on my hands, I have had a lot of time to think. Well, think, sleep, watch trashy stuff on lifetime, and fail at reading 'Anna Karenina'. But in the time I was thinking, I thought about how true that little silly article about the way men love women was- and all the silly little ways I love Derek back in return. I wonder if other women love their boyfriends or husbands that way, or whether it's unique to Derek. I would ask Izzie, but she's gone MIA, Cristina would sooner give someone a rectal examination than discuss it, and Lexie had too much of a perfect childhood to ask her- besides, she's with Mark, and he's a law unto himself.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.