I take all comments - good, bad, ugly, constructive, destructive, flame-y, whatever. That said, flames will be mocked, of course, and used to start a warm, toasty fire.

It's not that I don't understand you, it's not that I don't want to be with you, but you only wanted me the way you wanted me.

Rachael Yamagata

After Derek admits that he kissed Rose, Meredith gives herself two days – two days to decide exactly what she feels and what she needs to do. She isn't surprised that he went there, but that doesn't stop it from hurting.

She holds her breath as she taps softly on the door of his trailer, noting how awkward it is to be knocking after so many months using her key. She vainly hopes that he won't answer, despite the fact that his vehicle is sitting next to her Jeep.

She lets out a sigh when he opens the door and lets her in without a word. She immediately moves to lean against the small table by the door, not bothering to take off her coat or gloves as he quietly takes a seat on the couch.

She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it. Inhaling deeply, she wraps her arms tightly around her torso, wishing it could all just be over already. She can feel him looking at her, but he stays quiet.

"I think I'm done." Her voice shakes a little.

"You think?" he questions her softly, a small bit of hope still clinging to his quiet words.

She shakes her head gently, causing some strands of hair to fall into her eyes, but she does nothing to move them as she keeps her gaze firmly on the floor. "No," she pauses briefly, "I'm done." She tries her best to sound firm, though she knows she probably looks like a little kid who's apologizing for taking the last cookie.

She's choosing to leave, not because she doesn't love him, and not because she can't believe him when he says her he loves her, but because she's no longer convinced he has any more of a clue about what loving someone means than she does. She's never been big on sweeping romantic love stories; she's never believed in one true love, or soul mates. She knows that lasting love isn't easy and it doesn't just fall in your lap. The demise of every marriage she's ever known is proof of that. Meredith isn't interested in saying vows when her boyfriend doesn't seem to realize how hard you have to fight to keep a marriage alive.

Derek wants a partner, but he doesn't want to have to fight for her. She sees that now. When he kissed a woman after only a few months of impatient waiting, he made that crystal clear.

"So that's it? I kiss one other woman and you're done?" Derek's hands are clenched in his pockets as he stares, eyes tinged with disbelief.

"Yeah, Derek. You kiss one other woman and I'm done." She sighs softly. If the conversation wasn't breaking her heart she'd almost have to roll her eyes at his naiveté. She knows she isn't going to be able to make him understand tonight. If she didn't feel she owed him more, she'd let it go at that and leave right now. She'd give anything to be able to let it go that easily. Derek stares into her eyes and it pains her to see the tears in his.

"What if I don't want you to be done, Meredith?" As he gets up from the long narrow couch, Meredith suddenly wishes she'd chosen to talk to him outside. The tiny trailer feels smaller than ever.

"You do. You don't want to admit that you do, but you do. You don't want me, Derek. You don't."

He moves towards her and starts to speak when she places a finger over his lips, shushing him softly. It pains her to see the tears in his eyes, but she needs to get this out. "I don't know if you love me or not, Derek. I don't exactly have enough experience to make that call."

"Mer-" he protests but she just shakes her head and pushes her finger harder against his mouth.

"No. Let me say this. I don't expect you to understand. I don't need you to understand. But let me finish." She swallows hard. She's beginning to think that writing a letter and fleeing to some other city far away would have been the better choice. "Whether you love me right now or not doesn't really factor into my choice. Like I said, you may love me. I want to believe that you love me. But you don't like me, Derek. You like my body, you like the way I smell, but you don't seem to like me . You like the me that I may become, but, Derek what would happen if I decide I never want the fantasy; the kids, the house, the forever? Cause right now, I don't know if I do, and all my life I've been leaning towards not wanting that. Hell, before you those thoughts rarely ever crossed my mind. I have issues and I avoid and I'm not entirely sure that I'd ever want to inflict that on any child, much less one I'm supposed to love." She looks up at him and shakes her head at the earnest look in his eyes. "And I could change for you. I could try and be less damaged and less complicated and more mature for you, but it would be exhausting and, Derek, I've had exhausting all my life."

"Meredith, I love you. I love you. Don't you understand that?" He sounds desperate, and in that moment, she'd love nothing more than to just be able to give in to it. To believe that love lasts forever.

"I know. I know you really believe that you love me right now. But Derek, what you want is still too much. It's not me. Not now and probably not any time soon and like I said, love and like are very different things and I won't change who I am for you. I want to change. I need to change. I need to grow up, but I can't do it for you. I can't do it because I need or want you to stay."

"But you're the love of my life."

"I'm pretty sure Addison heard those words a few times, too." She ducks her head when he lets out a small, bitter laugh.

"Yeah. But that was different, Mer. I was different."

"No. I don't think you were, Derek. You tell me I'm the love of your life, that you want to grow old with me and die with me and I want that too. Or I think I will. I want to believe that I'll want that too, but you want it now . You want it so badly you can't even wait for a few months and that's okay. Because it's you and you're a great guy and you should have someone who wants that, who needs it, and that's not me. Not now anyway. And you just – you can't wait. And you shouldn't have to."

She can feel him staring at the top of her head as silence fills the room.

"So I'm gonna go."

"Yeah." He sounds slightly stunned. She looks up at him when she feels him take a step back, to see him slouched against the counter, pressing the heals of his hands harshly against his closed eyes, then roughly them through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "Yeah," he repeats.

She shouldn't be disappointed that he's giving up so easily, but she is.

"Okay." She impulsively takes a step towards him, stands on her tip toes and presses her lips to his stubble covered jaw, shivering slightly. "Goodbye, Derek."

He grabs her hand and squeezes it tightly; only then does she start to cry. She doesn't look at him as she pulls away and walks out the door, and she manages to make it to the car before the sobbing sets in. She drives blindly down the road until she knows he can't see her anymore then pulls onto the shoulder to get herself under control.

When Cristina had her small, never to be talked about, break down after Burke left her, she kept repeating that she was free. Meredith was never sure how such a happy word sounded so terrifying. She understands now. This kind of freedom is completely petrifying.

Meredith lifts a trembling hand off the steering wheel to push the hair out of her face. She looks around for something to use to blow her nose, finally settling on some old, greasy napkins that had been stuffed between the passenger seat and the center console. Her head hurts. Her face is raw from crying so hard and she feels vaguely queasy, but after a few deep breaths the trembling in her hands lessens enough for her to drive home.

As she drives back to her mother's house, she's struck by how much of her mother and father she can see in herself in this moment, and it scares her a little. Or a lot. It scares her a lot. Leaving seemed to come so easily to them.

In the locker room all those months ago, Derek had told her that she had to be the one to leave because he couldn't. He made it sound like it would be easy for her, so she did what he asked. At least she'd started to – and now she's finished it. That's what kills her, really. He said she was always leaving him. And he was wrong – at least she wants to believe he was wrong. In this moment she can't help but think maybe he was right. Just like her mother left her father and just like her father left his daughter, she's leaving instead of fighting.

"It's not the same," she mumbles to herself, shaking her head as she pulls onto the ferry.

She isn't fleeing. She's leaving, and there's a difference. It's subtle, she knows it's subtle, but she isn't scrambling to escape. She isn't running from the hurt that she knows seeing him in the morning is going to bring – and, damn, it's going to hurt like a bitch. She almost hates him for making her the heavy; needing her to be the heavy. She hates that he needed her to make the decision. But angry as it makes her, she knows she's making the right choice.

Meredith gets out of the car to walk up onto the ferry's deck, swallowing her tears, and tries to forget where she is, grateful that she won't need to take a ferry for a long time. Looking out toward the city lights she breathes deep, realizing that her chest isn't so tight anymore. Her hands no longer tremble.

She inhales and looks out over the water and smiles – small and sad.

"I'm okay." She breathes out and nods her head, rubbing her gloved hands together for warmth.

"I'll be okay."