Anatomy of Me

I've just spent a good chunk of hours watching season 2 of "Grey's Anatomy." It is the first time I have seen the show, and I am completely engrossed in it. I don't want to stop watching it. It's like a kind of addiction for me.

When it is over, and when I am done with this season I will be sad. Not because I know there aren't any more, but simply because I can no longer view it on my television until I either buy the next season, or find some way to get it without it hurting my very slim pocketbook.

Grey like's to start each episode off with a narration. It sets the tone for the episode. Perhaps it is a quote, or an observation. Perhaps it is an anecdote from her life. Whatever it is, these little narrations have somehow found their way into my heart. Each one has something to say to me. I can listen to Grey and in my mind I will say, "Yes, I know exactly what you mean."

Unfortunately for me - I have experienced some of the heartbreak that she is going through. I have not blogged extensively (the second time around) the emotions that I had during my painful letting go of Matt. Partially because I didn't wish to relive my experience with Dustin, and paritally because I have not yet gotten over him.

I think I have simply gotten 'past' him. Or had been. I was doing things with my life! Writing, exercising, going out with friends. All of that is well and fine but it doesn't cure a person of their love or their heartbreak. I thought I had been doing great actually. I was finally getting a restful night's sleep. I was taking up new hobbies.

But somehow, somewhere between this morning and the night before that - I broke. I had a dam, that I had built around my heart and possibly my mind, to keep the emotions from all the traumatic or stressful situations at bay...and I didn't even realize it. This morning when I woke up - I realized it. It was as if I was feeling the emotions from the past year and they were coalescing into this giant ball of pain.

I believe that for the first time in a long time, I was letting myself feel something beyond the daily run of emotions. I was actually *feeling* it.

They say that when you're in a war zone, you are living moment to moment, not thinking about what you're going through and what conditions you are surviving. When you return to the 'real world' and join the rest of the population again, it starts to hit you.

That's how I felt. Not only the trauma from living in hell for about three to four months, but also from the heart ache I was suffering.

I wouldn't let myself process these things because I had responsibilities. To other people's lives as well as my own. To make sure the rent was paid or the house was clean or that the dogs were fed and nourished and cared for - and then to make sure my homework was done and maybe to get a little sleep once in a while.

Then I woke up today. I opened my eyes and I said, "Ow."

And you know what? It sucks. I have never felt like this before, about anyone or anything. The pain that sticks out the most is the pain that came from Mark. I genuinely loved him. I seem to have that curse. Falling for guys that won't give me the time of day. Except this one did. He kissed me, told me he liked me - said he could fall for me. Made me believe we were a possibility.

When in reality I was just a substitute. He was in love with another guy and I didn't even know it. The substitutes are usually the last to know.

Anyway, my best friend (who recently got out of a relationship) also felt like this today. For some reason, today was the day that all the crap just fell from where it was sticking onto the fan. It had already hit, and we knew it had hit, but then when we thought it was over: it fell from the fan.

She popped in my mother's second season of Grey's Anatomy and said, "Let's watch this. You're going to love it."

We had nothing better to do, and besides that, we needed a distraction.

She was right. I did love it. I fell in love with the characters and I got invested in their stories. Part of that was because of Meredith and her struggle with McDreamy. She was happy with him and he just took that away from her. We as the viewers get to see how she deals with that - so naturally I can identify with some of the things she says.

Anyway, in the episode "The End of the World..." she says something that really strikes a chord with me. Because it was spot on how I felt and how I would say it.

She's talking to Christina about McDreamy and this feeling she has about her life in general and she says: "I can't even remember the last time we kissed. Because you never think the last time is the last time. You think you have forever, but you don't."

And this is where she spoke what I was feeling, exactly, today: "I need something to happen. I just need a sign. I need a reason to go on. I need some hope, and in the absence of hope, I need to stay in bed and feel like I might die today."

I do need something to happen. I need something to happen that tells me that I shouldn't give up on love. I need for some kind of event to happen that will bring me out of my funk. And I'm not talking about a death or a crisis. I need something good to happen. Or I will continue to feel the absence of hope.

Isn't it sad that human beings can do that to one another? Take away their hope and their faith in life itself?

It is even more sad when that act comes in the name of something like Love. It was the love of another guy that made Matt unavailable to me. Love did that. To me.

And because this other guy didn't love Mark back, then he in turn, was broken as well. He transformed into someone I don't recognize and quite frankly, don't even like.

I have to believe that there is still some good kind of love. I have to believe that the 'monogamous-once in a lifetime-grow old and wrinkly together' kind of love hasn't died with the previous generation. I want to believe that there are some relationships that exist out there where both parties have not physically and/or emotionally cheated on their significant other and have chosen to always remain faithful and in love with the other person.

Until that can happen for me; until my hope and faith in love and life can be restored...I will truck on. I won't lay down and die or wait to die. I will get up. I may bitch and moan about having to get up...but every morning I promise myself that I will get out of bed and do something.

And even if it's juvenile to say this out loud, well I don't care: I will have Grey to remind me that life goes on. To heal me with her words and her stories. Because even if she is fictional, she is still someone I can relate to. Her character's experiences can comfort me as I watch them play out on my television.

Her pixelated eyes will never look into mine and her rose colored lips will never smile at me, but she is one person who can't hurt me from where she is. She can't betray me, or step out of line. She can't lie to me or lead me on. And she will always be there when I need her.

Even after I put her away, when I'm ready to rejoin the rest of the world, and believe in people again.

That's all.

-J-