Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy, et al. So, for a while now I wanted to write something to reflect on how much I miss George on the show. I tinkered with several ideas, then about an hour ago, this song came onto my shuffle, I had loaded an older play list ... and this is what came out, a one shot. The Perishers ... ARE AWESOME and this song kind of makes me cry, but I love it. Oh and this is for Lola. Enjoy and if you read, please comment. Nothing Like You and I
Lyrics for The Perishers', "Nothing Like You and I":
We spent some time
together walking
Spent some time just talking
about who we were
You held my hand so
very tightly
And told me what we
could be dreaming of
There's nothing like you and I
We spent some time
together drinking
Spent some time just thinking
about days of joy
As our hearts started
beating faster
I recalled your laughter
from long ago
There's nothing like you and I
We spent some time
together crying
Spent some time just trying
to let each other go
I held your hand so
very tightly
And told you what I would be
dreaming of
There's nothing like you and I
So why do I even try?
There's nothing like you and I
-------------------------------------
Nothing Like You and I
I miss George.
The fact was plain and simple and full of truth and honesty. It was the most honest statement that had crossed my mind in some time actually – which he would find both horrifying and amusing at the same time – and that's why I miss him.
I miss George … my best friend.
I never thought I would miss someone as much as I miss George – when I met him, I barely noticed him – perhaps in a strange way I was similar to the girl he stepped off the curb for, completely infatuated with my own world and what it meant to me. But he managed to change all that … or he changed me, the 'me' I am today.
Because George grew on me and he pushed me and he tolerated me … and he … loved me. Even later, after everything, even though he wasn't around me too much anymore and even though I was beleaguered by the secret of my illness … he loved me and I loved him. Very much.
I miss George … my confidant.
The problem is – I can't tell him everything he ever meant to me, I blew it, he's gone and he's never coming back – which I guess is the same problem we all have when someone we love dies on us. It makes me want to own up to my crappy decisions and irrational behavior and think and act and live … differently. Because that's what it's like when you get the second chance and someone you love dearly does not.
So … all of this – George's death, Denny's consumption of my mind, body and spirit, hours of chemotherapy, my missing ovaries, that metallic taste in my mouth, the one that even the 'cancer pops' can't undo – all of it, the gamut makes me want to cherish what I love about Alex Karev. I know we're over … but I so desperately want to be able to tell him what he has meant to me. It's too much that he doesn't want me – it's like a knife, the one you don't think is sharp, until it cuts you and you bleed all over your kitchen counter – it's just like that.
I miss Alex … my husband.
I do, I really do and when I came back – I knew it was sink or swim time – and I really, really, in my heart of hearts wanted to do laps in the pool with Alex … for always and forever. And I know what I did was childish, running off like that, but I was scared to be 'me' – this new 'Cancer Survivor Barbie' – I felt like I had become. And so I ran so I could learn to feel again, I wanted to feel alive – and somehow I think within all this survivor business – I had to somehow redefine myself and come to terms with George's death, simultaneously with the realization of my own survival.
See, all this comes back to this brief moment in time – this chance meeting, this crazy, suspended alternative universe – in which I was coding and so was he. My dearest friend with the deepest, brownest, most sincere eyes, he was there – I could have reached out and touched him, he was so real and calm and collected – and within this moment … damn it, he looked so good in his uniform. He looked like he finally belonged. The cut of the fabric hung on him just perfectly and the brown offset his beautiful, handsome eyes and his traditional buzz cut added just the right amount of chivalry. And then some kind of thought about his father barreled through my mind like a freight train without a conductor – Mr. O'Malley would have been proud, so proud, I thought, it was shame he would never … he would never live to see his son in uniform – and somehow I thought to myself … would I? Would I miss the chance to see him too? So I stayed on the elevator and I let the doors close on him with hope of seeing him on the other side.
I miss George … my once-lover.
And then I came back and never got the chance, to see him for real - it was my imagination again, playing tricks on me - tricks of survival. And now I miss him because there was this unsolved mystery in that moment, it was almost over before it began … it was so real I felt everything (even the butterflies in my stomach) and yet I knew this was made of something else entirely, for it was too beautiful and surreal to be anything but our heartfelt goodbye. Even now when I think of it – the moment, our moment – tears cloud my eyes and I can't see in front of me … I lose my way … I lose my focus … and all I can see is his handsome face and how he belonged to me.
And sometimes I feel lonely and 'I want to be where someone loves me best of all' (that's from a book, my favorite childhood book) but I can't find that place because George is gone … and I can't find my way … and I feel abandoned … and I feel like doing anything but surviving … but I will.
There's no question in my mind, for I know George would kick my ass right back to Chehalis if I ever considered letting this cancer kick mine. And I miss that about him – I miss that he held me to a higher standard than most – and I can't just say I miss him … because I'm not really myself without him … I miss him because I need him … like the air to breathe … or like Rachel misses Jillian.
I miss George … my almost-everything.
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