Hey guys, long time no post. I have a heap of stories I should update, but I've been busy with my final year of Uni. Anyway, this was intended as a one-shot, but I'll probably continue because I haven't really reached the conclusion I wanted to. This is basically a comparison of Meredith and Derek's relationship with my own. I love my boyfriend, but recently I have questioned aspects of our relationship. In the process, I've discovered some similarities in the two relationships. Anyway, please let me know what you thought. I understand that this story won't be for everyone, but constructive criticism would be very much appreciated. Many thanks.
Meredith sat on the porch swing, a mug of coffee tucked in her hands. One leg was curled underneath her, while the other foot pushed the swing gently backwards and forwards. Lost in her thoughts, she softly blew on the steaming coffee, cooling the liquid before taking a sip.
In her mind's eye, Meredith was focused on Derek. He hadn't spoken to her since the night of Christina's non-wedding, and she could hardly blame him. Three days ago, she had stood in front of a large crowd of people and told them that it was over. He had read her meaning as she had intended him to… they were over. But did she want that? She thought he did. She knew he should. Meredith was enough of a realist to understand that she would always doubt any relationship they had. She would always want to be hurt, for him to leave her. She had ummed and ahhed enough with the Addison thing to realise that she was a masochist when it came to relationships. When she had shown up, Meredith had used it as an excuse to drive a wedge between Derek and herself, but then when it had finally looked as though she might lose him, she had begged him to love her. And he had seen straight through her. Every time they tried to have a relationship, one of them would try their hardest to destroy it. And although Derek had done it once or twice, it was usually Meredith who did the damage. Did she really love him at all?
Of course she did. She probably always would. She had loved him from the first time he brushed hair out of her eyes. But was she in love with him? That was the bigger question. There was a fine difference between loving a person, and being in love with them. Meredith couldn't remember the last time she had had a belly flutter over him. But at the same time, she didn't want anyone else. She craved time with him, and his affection. Although the subject had never come up between them, Meredith wanted forever with him. Christina was her person, but he was her someone. When she was tired, when she was upset, when she wanted to feel alive, he was the one she went to. So why didn't she want a relationship with him?
Meredith sighed. Damned Disney, giving me unrealistic expectations of love. Meredith was unsure of what exactly it was that she wanted with Derek. She could see herself growing old with him. She could see the look on his face at the birth of their first child. She imagined how he would propose to her. Was that what she wanted? Suddenly she realised it was. The feeling of falling in love had left her. They had been together – sort of – for a year. The excitement and mystery of a new relationship had worn off, and she had found herself grasping in the shadows for the remnants of a relationship that no longer existed. It had been slowly replaced by a sturdy fire that burned within her. He had said he couldn't breathe for her anymore. He couldn't save her anymore. She realised now what he had meant. Derek was the love of her life and she had been pushing him away.
Reaching for her cell phone, Meredith typed a short message. We should talk. She held her breath as the envelope icon flashed, indicating it was being sent. She barely breathed as she waited for a reply. Had he meant what he'd said? Were they really through, or was there some way she could revive what was easily the best thing to have ever happened to her?
Her answer came barely 30 seconds later, when the phone in her hand vibrated, and a reply popped up on the screen. Ok.
