The reason why I watch most of the longer lasting shows is the writing. Be it solid or really bad, I cannot help myself but to enjoy it. Sometimes I chuckle picking up the contradictions with the long lasting on screen characters. Writers come and go - one crazy chick eating oatmeal remembers everything. Some shows have the actual creator - the brain behind the concept. A person (or more) who has some sort of notebook with things that are not to be changed. Little things that were sure about the certain character when the show was first written before going to the network, studio or any producer. Some things that were decided when the actors casted tested the chemistry between each other. Those things are the most cherished about the long lasting TV shows.
Grey’s anatomy used to be my favorite guilty pleasure. I mean - what is there not to like? Crazy enthusiastic young interns, pissy residents and hot attending saving lives, killing people, having crazy work hours, having to life except in on-call room between shifts. For several years my name on MSN (killed by evil Microsoft) was McDreamy Girl and I’ve never liked the infamous neurosurgeon, doctor Derek Shepard. I’ve found the hole Meredith-Derek romance incredibly boring. From the first episode (or should I say - first night at the bar) it was quite obvious the show would bring them together to make cute McDreamy babies, with Meredith’s reddish hair, Derek’s kinds eyes…
By far the most interesting relationship of the series is not a romance of traditional kind. It is a story of friendship between the messed up story teller Meredith Grey and grumpy, know-it-all, nerd - Cristina Yang. When the lineup of characters was reveling in season one - it wasn’t really clear that those two stubborn and messed up women would hit it off so well. Meredith was rushed erotic romance with her neurosurgeon which soon became the talk of the hospital, while Cristina held her cards private while being cozy with cardio God. It wasn't till Cristina had to name a case of emergency person on her health insurance papers that the term “my person” was mentioned.
Messed up Meredith was grumpy Cristina’s person.
Erratic Cristina was dreamy Meredith’s person.
With time - Mer and Cristina defined their relationship further. Respecting each other’s differences and chasing similar halls of medical skill and fame, yet having far different views of what happiness is. Cristina got engaged and her priority was to find a proper way to tell her shaken friend Meredith this news. While explaining to her fiancée how important Meredith is, Cristina puts it just right: "She’s my person. If I murdered someone, she’s the person I’d call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor. She’s my person."
The concept of “my person” is so simple, yet so rare. That’s the Person you will call when shit starts falling from the sky and when all the kings horses and all the kings men will not be able to put you back together again. That Person that can make you go out when you feel like crap and decide when you last drink is in times of blue depression. This is the person you can tell you don't love you parents as much as the social norms say you should or that procreation is only interesting to you in its testing phase.
A month ago I reflected once again on my life. Since I was about to enter my mid twenties, I figured I should make sure my people get to sit down with me and exchange ideas how to deal with the crazy oatmeal eating chick. I was sure that there would be 5 people with me on my birthday, yet I was wrong.
I misjudged my potential Cristina (I am just not geeky enough to be Yang, in any relationship). It went so far that Cristina and I are not even talking to each other, or better yet - Cristina is just not responding to my most recent reach of friendship. Since my life is not a TV show (just yet) and there is no creator or Shondra Rhimes to tell me on a Friday blog post what the hell is going on, poor me cannot find comfort in Meredith’s and Cristina’s periods of not talking to each other.
What I realise with all clarity is that friendship is only real as it is in the minds of people sharing that connection. It is not a one way street. It is an embrace of sincerity and push of clarity that connects a person to person. Such relationships cannot be planned, they can grow with nurturing by both sides. It makes me sad that I had to face the clash in my mid 20s, but the comfort comes that my intentions came from the most honest place.
I lost one Cristina.
Or maybe I never really knew her.