My Beloved Greys,

I'm not sure where to begin. I mean — we've been together for so long. 270 some episodes, 43 minutes each. It's been about 190 hours or 11,400 minutes of my life watching copious amounts of you. And let me tell you it hasn't been easy. Our relationship has been through so much death, depression, alcoholism, random ass car crashes and other various terrible things. I mean? We never really do get a break, do we?

But Greys, my heart has fallen more and more in love with your dark and twisty drama.

We've got late nights at Joe's, quiet moments gazing at each other across the OR table, dancing our problems out over blaring music, building our home out of candles, and getting caught in the elevator together.

I am so in love with the quiet moments. The words of wisdom. The captivating and hilarious way that you are able to completely shatter my heart and then make me laugh in the next scene. Although you have made me seriously terrified of Seattle, Washington for all the random shootings, ferry boat crashes, plane crashes and book of revelations level storms, I continue to fall in love with you with every episode.

The stories of growth and hardship sprinting through the halls of Grey-Sloan Memorial, Seattle Grace have taught me to be vulnerable, to fail, to be confident, to lead, and for the most part, resilience. Perhaps after all the time, energy and tears I've invested in you, I've come away with something more than entertainment.

In a weird way, you, a simple show, have shaped me. I do not have to be a cardiothoracic surgeon to know that you have touched my heart in one of the deepest ways and therefore, will always have a special place in it.

For that, I love you. And I can't wait to see you again in the next episode.

All my love,

Your Person (Or at least one of the millions that love you all the same.)