Before we begin, let me clear something up.

I'm not a baby.
I don't prance around in a diaper.
And I hate Valentine's Day.

People often find that last one confusing because "I" am plastered on all the decorations and cards and yadda yadda...no. Valentine's Day is nothing but a headache for me. People galavanting around, messing with my work, and pretending they know everything about love.

But here's the thing: love is so often misunderstood. So many people get it wrong, try to force it, or deny it.

So let me tell you who I am and why I'm here, shall we?

I'm Cupid. Yes, the Cupid. But as previously mentioned, I may not be exactly who you're picturing in your mind's eye. I'm roughly 6'1" by mortal standards (not that mortals can even see me), and I actually have a fine collection of tailored suits I wear on the daily. No cloth and clothespins for me, thank you very much. And as impressive as it would be, I don't carry a bow and arrow with me. I'm a terrible shot these days and the quiver would wrinkle the suit anyway.

So how do I operate, you ask?

For starters, I don't exist in the same realm as you. Which is to say, I don't operate on your time. Essentially, I'm everywhere all at once, but there is only one me. (Don't let that idiot Eros try and tell you we're the same. He and his Greek friends could all use a little slice of humility, if you ask me.)

Anyway, in place of using a bow and arrows (an outdated--and quite frankly more painful--practice I gave up around the 16th century) I send what I like to call a sparrow. It rhymes with arrow, I know, which is maybe why these commercial companies can't seem to stop attaching archery to the cherub version of myself they've constructed.

But I call it a sparrow because it's more like a little fluttering of a thought, much like the quiet flap of a bird's wing. Little ideas or hints I plant into someone's head to help them identify what the heart wants. I give each person their own sparrow, personalized to them and their innate desires.

But, as proven through centuries, humans will do as humans will do. I guide you, I show you your desires, but after that it's out of my hands.

And boy, do you people know how to get it wrong.

Today, I want to tell you about a place I've grown to love. It's also a place that makes me pull my hair out, but we'll get to that later. In fact, I'm here right now. It's a little place called--oh, hold on a moment.

"Hello, Creed."

"Hey, big guy."

That's Creed Bratton. Somehow, he's the only mortal who has ever been able to see me. We spent a lot of time together in the 70's, so maybe that has something to do with it. But in any case, nobody believes a word the guy says (also because of...things...he did in the 70's) so I'm not too worried about a blown cover.

Where was I? Oh yes.

I'm at a little paper company in Scranton, Pennsylvania called Dunder Mifflin.

Sounds exciting, right? Maybe not to the naked (or mortal) eye, but trust me when I say there is a lot coursing through the veins of these florescently-lit walls.

You see, about 10 years ago, a camera crew entered the office to film a documentary. It was to show the everyday, the mundane, the intricacies of your average 9-5 desk job, all with the hopes of finding nuggets of humor, sprinkles of absurdity, and ultimately, to find beauty in the ordinary.

And they did.

Tonight, after a year away from the cameras, they're all back in this office together after celebrating the union of two of their own (some of my best work, if I may say). So now, I figure, is the perfect time to introduce you to each one of them, through my lens.

Because before any camera crew arrived, I knew these people, for better or for worse. And I have long mastered finding the beauty in ordinary things.

So pull up a seat and buckle in, friends. It's going to be quite the ride.

If we're speaking of desire, I think it's best we start with a man who definitely has desires.

A Mr. Kevin Malone.

In my line of work, it's frustrating when people can't seem to decipher between love and lust. I try very hard to steer people toward someone they can see themselves with for the rest of their lives.

But Kevin always seemed to just see their, um...physical assets. After a while I just kind of gave up and let him loose because a God like me can only handle so many headaches from someone constantly misinterpreting my nudges. The man proposed to four different women and I'm fairly certain three of them didn't even know his last name.

That being said, there have been a couple of successes with Kevin. Times where somehow, by the grace of Jupiter, he got it. Like Stacy. She was my first major win for Kevin. And bless his heart, he tried his best.

They met in line for the ice cream truck, of all places. Stacy was there with her daughter and Kevin was there with, well, Kevin. As he ordered something from each row on the menu, Stacy cocked her head with a smile and asked him if he had volunteered to buy ice cream for a group of kids or something. Kevin responded with a shifty "...yes", though we all know he simply couldn't narrow down the choices for himself.

Now listen. I don't get many chances with Kevin. So when I saw the look in Stacy's eyes, I took my chances and sent one of my happy little sparrows Kevin's way. Much to my delight (and surprise), he was able to begin a somewhat normal conversation with Stacy, and much to my delight (and surprise) she didn't even seem to notice that he ate all the ice cream by himself during the conversation.

Something to understand is that my job mainly consists of getting people together. Once they figure that part out, I tend to stop the meddling. Very rarely, and only for good reason, do I continue my work once a couple is together. I wasn't sure what to expect from Kevin and Stacy, but they made it work for nearly four years and were even engaged at one point. Now, I love Kevin, but I think Stacy slowly began to understand what forever with him would look like and ended up abruptly calling it off at the breakfast table one morning. I could have meddled here, but...Stacy kind of had a point.

I had one more notable success with Kevin. It was short-lived, this time it was not due to failure on Kevin's part. I know, I was shocked too. When Michael Scott threw his Lonely Hearts party, (which first of all, rude. I try so tirelessly to get these people with their perfect matches and they screw it up. No need to throw a pity party on my busiest day of the year when it's their own fault they don't listen) I had a hunch that Lynn would be good for Kevin. So I made sure she saw that flyer. Thankfully, she took the hint and showed up. With a little further nudging, she really seemed to see Kevin and they exchanged phone numbers. But then it was time to work on Kevin.

Instead of listening to MY hints, however, he went to one of the biggest pains in my perfectly toned ass. Andy Bernard. Thankfully, and quite remarkably, Kevin didn't follow his advice and asked Lynn out. But as happens sometimes with you mortals, she felt as if they should just be friends. I hate that phrase.

And I felt for Kevin. He was doing everything right for once. He treated her well. So I made an exception and did a little meddling. If I've learned anything about Kevin, the fastest way to his heart (and elsewhere) is a well-endowed woman and food. And while I can't nudge a woman to change her cup size, I can give a little sway about what she has for breakfast, as long as it aides in a connection. So, Lynn had bacon. Kevin smelled said bacon in the elevator. Next thing I know, he is asking her out again and they're locking lips at Michael's disco party.

A God's gotta do what a God's gotta do.

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough and the two only remained friends. But it made Kev happy for 15 minutes and that's okay with me.

From there, I tried a few more times to help him make a connection but sometimes you just have to humble yourself and accept defeat.

Simple man, simple pleasures.

It's just a shame that love is never simple.

I don't really like to discuss my failures, but in order for you to get a full picture of the peculiar specimen that is Dunder Mifflin Scranton, I suppose I must.

Meredith Palmer grew up just outside of Scranton. As a latchkey child with a single mom, she began seeking attention from other places from a fairly young age. By the time she was 19, having ignored every push I had given her to find someone who actually suited her, she married her first husband, Robby. Things were turbulent to say the least, but at that point there was not much I could do to help. Eventually she ended up pregnant and Robby ended up in jail. (Meredith claims he was a serial killer, but Meredith also claims she isn't an alcoholic, so I'll let you be the judge. Rumor has it that it was actually tax fraud.)

She had her son Jake and did her best to raise the little hellion by herself. He was always biting other kids at daycare and generally became a nuisance wherever he went. Luckily for Meredith, she met Greg. After her divorce, Meredith decided to go back to school for her PhD and the two of them had several courses together. And Greg…well, Greg was what we might call "out of her league". But I knew that somewhere in there, if she played her cards right, they had a chance together. So, I nudged Greg along (Meredith needed no urging--she tended to pounce on any man that so much as blinked at her) and they began dating. Meredith fell hard and she fell fast. But only a month after starting their courtship, Meredith became pregnant again.

That was not in my plan.

They decided to marry and try to make it work, but once the baby was born, Meredith began drinking again and she and Greg divorced a week after their second anniversary as things began to implode. Greg was granted full custody of their daughter, Meredith grabbed the first job she could find at Dunder Mifflin, and once again it was Meredith and Jake against the world.

But coincidentally, that's not my failure I referenced earlier. You see, after Greg, Meredith never found love again. She found men, sure, but not love. To this day, I have had no success getting her to listen to me. It's as if she completely tunes me out. To be completely honest, I'm not sure she feels like she's worthy of love again, which is absolutely untrue. This--love--is my specialty and I assure you with complete certainty, that everyone is deserving of love.

Even if that's not water in her water bottle. But you didn't hear that from me.

Oscar Martinez is gay.

I knew it, his mother knew it, and even his regular cashier at the grocery store knew it. But it took Oscar some time to figure it out himself.

He always knew there was an attraction to other boys when he was younger but always played it off as something else. Envy, friendship, really anything to keep his denial burning. I tried everything in my power to make him understand himself, but that was something Oscar had to do on his own terms, and nobody could do it for him. Not even the God of Love himself.

I steer him toward Eddie, he asks Evelyn to prom. Nudge him toward Daniel, he goes for Danielle. For a man who loves facts so much, it really took him a while to embrace the fact that he was attracted to men.

Until I had my breakthrough. But really, it was Oscar's breakthrough. His freshman year of college, he took a pottery class. Yes, I have seen the movie Ghost. No, it was not like that. Oscar was seated next to a young man by the name of Eric. They became quick friends, which turned into hanging out after class, which turned into long phone conversations, which turned into a late night movie where I basically screamed in Oscar's ear to just "HOLD HIS HAND ALREADY", which turned into Oscar finally understanding what he really wants and probably had always wanted.

He and Eric spent nearly every day together after that, mostly keeping their relationship hidden. Oscar wasn't sure he was ready to tell the world he was gay and Eric respected that. Eventually, the semester ended and the two grew apart over the summer. Oscar decided to tell his family and close friends he was gay which was luckily received well, (Oscar's brother responded with one word: "Duh.").

Oscar is a know-it-all, but he generally responded well to my whisperings. Most notable was Gil. Really, a wonderful match if I say so myself. They dated for roughly three years before tragically, Oscar's stubbornness and ego got the best of him and he broke up with Gil one dark night in June. (I'm still a little bitter about it, but this story is not about me.)

There were a few other potentials after Gil. Matt from the warehouse, but he's an idiot. Jordan, from Oscar's spin class, but that also fizzled when Oscar found out who he voted for in the last election.

And then there was a certain state senator.

There was...a little bit of confusion when I sent a sparrow about the senator.

Two people may have received it due to their workplace proximity.

But I'll get to that later.

On second thought, I don't think you're ready for this.

On to the next one.

I'm going to get straight to the point on this one, folks. There is only one name you need to know when it comes to love and Phyllis Lapin.

Bob Vance (Vance Refrigeration).

If I still used a bow and arrows, this would be one of my biggest bullseyes to date. The match was so perfect, in fact, that years later they are still finding a plethora of ways to disgust those around them with their visual displays of their love, to put it delicately. They just can't seem to help themselves. I honestly can't even remember who else Phyllis has been involved with because she and Bob are burned too deeply in my brain, for better or worse.

But unsurprisingly I'm a sucker for romance, so bring on the...what do you guys call it? PDA? Bring on the PDA.

People always ask me, "Cupid, why do you cause affairs and make people cheat and blah blah blah…" I don't, okay? I deal with love, and the majority of affairs are not driven by love. I'm not sure how many times I need to mention it, but I only have so much control over you mortals. No offense, but you can be pretty dense and selfish. There, I said it.

Stanley Hudson. He was quite the ladies man in college. There were a few who were almost something serious, but for the most part just casual flings and weekend romances. After he graduated, he finally settled down with his first wife Tamara. I felt good about the match, initially. They had quite a bit in common and got along well. They had a daughter, Melissa, two years into their marriage. Unfortunately, Stanley was stubborn and so was Tamara. Stanley rarely apologized and Tamara could hold a grudge with the best of them as well. That doesn't exactly bode well for a healthy marriage and the two divorced when Melissa was 9.

He lived the bachelor life for a few years after that. Melissa stayed with him every other week and he and Tamara discovered they worked much better as friends and co-parents than they did as spouses.

Then Teri Valencia came into his life. The two met when Stanley backed into her car in a parking lot during his lunch break one day. When I saw Stanley get out of his car, calmly admit fault, and actually apologize, I leapt at the chance to work my magic on the two of them. They exchanged numbers for insurance reasons, but Stanley would go on to use it for his own purposes.

Then they married.

And then…*sigh*.

Stanley suffered a minor heart attack in the office and then managed to find a spark with his nurse, Cynthia. (It wasn't me, I promise.) He tried to keep their relationship a secret, but thanks to the wildcard that is Michael Gary Scott, Teri most definitely found out. Somehow, even though he and Teri technically separated, Stanley managed to keep both relationships afloat. The scoundrel. It's a mockery of my profession, really.

But wait, there's more!

Apparently, Stanley's inner ladies man must have been alive and kicking because he added in a third woman, Lydia, whom his wife and girlfriend (ugh) didn't know anything about.

(In case it wasn't clear, by this point my hands have been thrown in the air and I have given up. Let Stanley Hudson do what he wants.)

Eventually, it all imploded. The documentary came out last year, the three women hastily left him (and actually formed a book club together, surprisingly enough), and Stanley moved to Florida.

And you know, I think maybe Florida was Stanley's true love all along.

Whatever.

Despite what you might think, not all Gods are perfect. There are a few show-offs, sure, but we can make mistakes too. Sometimes you make a mistake that affects the entire trajectory of a man's life. And sometimes the direction of that trajectory is a steady downward spiral. So what?

Okay, it was February 13th and I was at Aphrodite's annual Valentine's Day party. Everyone was there, it was a grand old time. Anyway, I may have had a little too much of the Love Potion #9 and that stuff definitely makes me a little, hmmm...trigger happy? My buddy Apollo was supposed to cut me off after three drinks but he was too busy flirting with Juno and before I knew it, I was off making poor decisions.

Don't drink and matchmake, friends.

Long story short, I made Ryan Howard, who up until this point had made pretty solid dating decisions, go after Kelly Kapoor. Had I been in my right mind, I would have remembered why I take February 13th off. I also would have remembered that I need to be very selective when it comes to Kelly Kapoor. She tends to cling. But more on that later.

To be fair, Ryan seemed to realize his mistake once he got to work the next day. Kelly's true colors began bleeding through and they are some STRONG colors. But sometimes when I bring two people together, even if one or both of them realize it's a mistake, some of the "Cupid magic" remains and they keep coming back to each other. One of the downfalls of my job, really. I can't reverse what I've already done.

Ryan and Kelly were the epitome of "on again off again". Job moves, "trips to Thailand", blonde hair--they all contributed to the ebbs and flows of their relationship (okay, maybe not the last one but I said what I said). But somehow, for whatever insane reason, the two always came back to one another.

I was this close to having success with keeping them apart a couple times, mostly by steering Kelly in better directions, but whatever I said that one night on February 13th must have been strong because ultimately they ran away together. Ryan abandoned his child to be with Kelly. Yeah.

"But Cupid," you might say. "Isn't it your job to get two people together forever? You did that!"

Yeah, okay, they ended up together. But take one look at that relationship (and the blonde hair) and tell me a mistake wasn't made somewhere along the way.

One thing I have learned in this business: Success in the world of relationships isn't measured by simply being together.

It's far more complicated than that.

On the surface, Kelly Kapoor seems like she would be the perfect candidate for my services. She LOVES love. I mean, she's basically my mascot. In kindergarten, she had her first boyfriend. Well, technically two boyfriends. Neither of them knew about the other OR that they were Kelly's boyfriends. Unfortunately, that trend seemed to continue for a while.

She craved attention. With four sisters, it was only natural. If a boy so much as commented on the tiniest aspect of her being, she clung on like a barnacle. Sometimes it worked naturally, sometimes it really didn't, and sometimes, mostly out of pity, I would nudge the guy in hopes he might be a good fit for her. And then one breaks up with her and she steals his dad's boat and ends up in a juvenile detention center and…it could get messy.

But, yeah, on paper she's my perfect candidate. Only she just does my job for me before I even have the chance to do anything. For the majority of her life, I didn't have to do a blasted thing. Not until later, at least.

After a brief stint in hair school and two years of college, she landed a job at Dunder Mifflin in customer service. At the time, she had attached herself to a guy named Chad. (I've never met a Chad I've liked and he's no different.) He was a controlling meathead that had Kelly wrapped around his stubby little steroid-infused finger. When she got the job, he told her she needed to tone down her personality if she wanted to keep it. Kelly, being knee-deep in credit card debt, really needed the job so she muted herself. Now, the real Kelly can be a little much, but it's never fun to see someone completely change themselves for "love", especially because of Chad.

Eventually Chad moved on, but Kelly still tried to maintain her "new self" at work. That is until the cameras showed up. For a while, she remained cool and collected, professional and poised. But the idea of fame got to her and little by little, the old Kelly began to emerge.

In full force.

Now I bring you back to that fateful night in February (that I can't remember). Somehow Ryan and Kelly got together. And boy, did Kelly cling. She's naturally very clingy, but I must have done something that night that intensified it. She showed up at work the next day, love guns a blazin'. Valentine's Day is already a headache for me because of everyone thinking they know better than me, but this was just icing on the cake.

I've already given you a brief rundown of her relationship with Ryan (and don't care to dive any deeper), but I can mention the few failed attempts to steer her clear of him.

First was Darryl. I thought he would be perfect for her because he didn't do drama, he didn't take any crap, and he said it like it was without being a Chad. She took the bait, but much to my dismay, she seemed to only do so to make Ryan jealous. Ultimately, she broke up with Darryl for, you guessed it! Ryan.

One guess how that went.

And finally, the big one. The one that stings the most and nearly made me turn in my proverbial badge. Ravi.

Ravi was the whole package. I sent sparrow after sparrow to them both trying desperately to get Kelly to finally drop Ryan. And it worked! She realized she could do better and finally left Ryan in the dust.

Then there was dating!

And an engagement!

And they left Pennsylvania!

I popped open a bottle of heavenly champagne!

…to drown my sorrows as I watched her run off with Ryan freaking Howard. Again.

I just...I...I can't.

I can't.

Let's move on. Please.

The Nard Dog. Andrew. Andy "Call Me Drew" Bernard.

He's a guy who grew up getting what he wanted, for the most part. It was always less than his younger brother, but by most people's standards he was handed quite a lot in his life. A wealthy family, social connections, the whole nine yards.

So it's not too much of a stretch to see why he thought nearly every woman he came across was interested in him. He had an inflated sense of confidence that came from growing up so privileged. Pair that with his crippling desire to be accepted, and you have a recipe for some definite mishaps in the love department.

He had a few girlfriends before he started at Dunder Mifflin. A couple were solid matches, if I do say so myself, but life (or a few too many "rit-dit-dit-di-doo"s) got in the way and things ended.

When he started working at the Stamford branch of Dunder Mifflin, there were a few attempts at dating coworkers. I tried to keep my distance, mostly for the women's sakes. Eventually, the Stamford branch closed and merged with Scranton and Andy was very excited to have a brand new city of women to delusionally think wanted him.

For legal reasons, I am not allowed to discuss Andy's first girlfriend in Scranton. Our resident Goddess of Justice and Law, Themis, has advised me to remain vague about any details surrounding their relationship. Just know that it was frowned upon due to the ages of the parties involved. Also, I had nothing to do with it. That was all Andy.

Moving on.

Now, when you have a man like Andy that craves female attention, and you give him a woman who is heartbroken and a touch (okay, more than a touch) angry about a dead cat, things happen.

Let me explain.

After some failed attempts at wooing a few women in the office, Andy set his sights on Angela Martin. Normally, this would have fizzled before it even began, but he happened to catch Angela at a time where she would like nothing more than a reason to move on from her previous relationship (and perhaps cause some jealousy). I kind of knew the match wasn't perfect, but you know what? I was tired of watching Andy make a complete fool of himself with every other woman, so I threw the Nard Dog a little bone and gave Angela a slight push in his direction.

However, I did not expect him to propose.

Nor did I expect her to say yes.

Or continue having…relations...with her ex.

Why must you humans always find a way to complicate everything?

I truly felt sorry for Andy. The match was probably doomed from the start, but he tried. He was a little oblivious and blind, but...he tried. So when Erin began working at Dunder Mifflin, I saw an opportunity.

A quick pause to explain something here. While I have the power of persuasion and a keen understanding of people in order to match them, I do not have the ability to see how things will end up. I never know if a couple will stay together, even if they do everything seemingly "right".

Erin and Andy turned out to be a solid pairing but good heavens, it took them a while to get there. I sent my sparrows to both of them. They received both of them. But then this weird little dance occurred where neither of them could just make it clear they were interested and I've never seen anything so frustrating.

Eventually they figured it out and began dating. Andy finally found a girl that appreciated his quirks and it was nice to see him happy, even if he was usually one of the primary sources of my headaches in Scranton.

But then, because I can't just get a solid win with Andy, he failed to inform Erin about the fact that he was engaged to Angela once and they broke up.

Andy began dating Jessica after that and Erin dated…sigh...Gabe. Jessica was a fine enough pairing for Andy but Gabe? That was definitely not my doing. Must have been Eros. But it became apparent that Erin and Andy were a better pairing for each other as I watched them try to navigate a friendship after breaking up.

Thankfully, Erin came to her senses on her own and broke up with Gabe. But Andy, well, I may have broken my own rules and meddled just a tad. You see, Erin and Andy, on a fundamental level, were good for each other. And since I have a soft spot for Erin, I simply reminded Andy about the feelings he once had for her. His breakup with Jessica was awkward to witness but Erin and Andy were back together.

Until he SCREWED IT UP AGAIN and left on a boat without her, then came back and treated her like garbage.

I tried, people. I really tried.

And I don't want to talk about it anymore.

I feel like I'm pretty good at what I do. I have centuries of analyzing and studying mortal behaviors, dissecting human motivation, and knowing which traits and personalities will be cohesive. I've brought together some real…what do you all say? Power couples? I know my stuff.

But even then, I can be surprised.

Let's set the stage. I was having a rough couple of days of watching mortals screw up perfectly matched relationships and needed a pick me up. So I summoned my friend Venus. She can always commiserate with me. We were shooting the breeze, catching up, and laughing about mistakes we've made and pairings gone awry, when Dunder Mifflin came up in conversation. It had become a spectacle of sorts amongst the Gods and Goddesses of love. It was almost infamous due to the way those people could always seem to get it wrong. Venus looked to me and issued me a bet. She bet I couldn't get two Dunder Mifflin employees, of her choosing, together. If I succeeded, she would owe me Dairy Queen. (Because believe it or not, it's nearly impossible to find a Blizzard equivalent up here and obtaining mortal food is a bureaucratic headache.)

Her choice? Dwight Schrute and Angela Martin.

At face value, these two seem like the most unlikely of pairs. But what Venus didn't realize, is that I know more about them and their desires than they even know themselves.

Let's back up just a touch. Angela is a complex creature. She comes from an ultra conservative, insanely religious background. The only person more Christian than the Martins was probably Jesus Christ himself and even then it's a toss up.

So for most of her life, she followed every rule placed in front of her. She never kissed a boy. Never saw a movie rated higher than PG. She was punctual and (outwardly) polite. But the problem with suppressing everything, is that occasionally it erupts and backfires. At the age of 18, Angela moved to go away to college. The church she attended was led by a very young, and very attractive pastor by the name of Benjamin Davis. This is where we find out that Angela has a weakness for authority.

Angela and Pastor Davis maintained a clandestine courtship for well over a year. Let's just say you probably don't want to sit in any of the back four pews of that church. For many reasons, I stay far away from clergymen, so I can't be blamed here either. The point I'm trying to make in telling you this, is that as hard as Angela tried to live by the "letter of the law", it seemed her downfall was a particular type of man. Pastor Davis was strong and held a leadership position and that was enough for Angela's knees to go weak. The two of them had to sever their relationship after 92-year-old Mrs. Jenkins walked into the church during one of their "Bible studies" and nearly had a heart attack, the poor woman.

Pastor Davis is no longer a pastor, to say the least.

Angela transferred colleges after that, to Penn State. She graduated with her bachelor's degree in accounting and quickly got hired at our little Dunder Mifflin office.

Where she met Dwight Kurt Schrute.

She started after Dwight and initially was turned off by him. He liked Harry Potter and other fictional things she found offensive and evil. He was loud and often impolite. But I knew Angela and I knew Dwight. So when Venus issued the bet, I knew I could win.

I sent a small sparrow to Angela on a day where I knew Michael would be gone. Dwight can't help but take charge and I've already told you Angela likes authority. After Michael left early in the day, Dwight began a long speech about wasting office time. Naturally that prompted Jim Halpert to find a way to get Dwight to waste more time by getting him to further explain all the ways one could waste time.

Angela rolled her eyes, for she didn't appreciate Jim's constant pranking and sarcasm. But for the first time she seemed to notice Dwight. The way he jutted out his chest and squared his shoulders. His firm, even tone. His apparent taste in muted color tones. All of it stirred something inside of her. So she found a way to ride the elevator with him at the end of the day. They rode in silence, but as the door dinged and opened up, Angela quietly, and without looking at Dwight, said, "I think you would make an excellent regional manager."

Jackpot.

Dwight asked her to dinner the next day without much prompting from me, and they began seeing each other regularly. Secretly, of course, because 1.) Angela believed it was nobody's business but their own, and 2.) She had already gotten a taste for the forbidden and she craved it now. Sneaking around with Dwight certainly scratched that itch.

And you know? Those two, as different as they seemed, were a great match. Dwight wanted someone he could protect and defend and Angela wanted someone who was no-nonsense and strong. Despite Angela's tough exterior, she brought out a softness in Dwight.

Unfortunately, that didn't stop him from killing Angela's cat, Sprinkles (may she rest in peace).

I've never wanted to slap a mortal more than when I saw Dwight putting that cat in the freezer. He was about to ruin one of my favorite pairings, and with Dairy Queen on the line! As predicted, it was enough for Angela to call it off with Dwight.

This is why we can't have nice things.

Now, I've already briefly explained Angela's next courtship. I previously mentioned that I urged her toward Andy because I was tired of him getting things wrong with other women, but if I'm being honest? I was feeling a little bitter towards Dwight for screwing up my hard work so I didn't really care if he was jealous. Not proud of it, but it is what it is.

But as it turns out, all my hard work hadn't been completely undone. Angela couldn't seem to stay away from Dwight. She continued to see him while she was with Andy. Then that imploded, which resulted in a fight over Angela, and all three of them alone in the end.

THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS.

But here's the thing, Dwight and Angela still couldn't seem to keep their paws off each other. (This will be a recurring theme, so pay attention.)

You see, Angela is as stubborn as she is Christian. I knew she still had feelings for Dwight and probably always had (despite the feline murder). So when Dwight decided he wanted a child and asked for a "childbearing contract" I knew she would accept because deep down she knew she was in love with Dwight and this was a way to remain close to him. She was just too stubborn to admit that.

That contract was flawed and, well, wrong (for so, so many reasons) but the two kept lying to themselves about their feelings. Meeting up in all sorts of places. Doing all sorts of…*ahem*. Things.

Enter Robert Lipton, the (state) senator.

Remember how I said I stay far away from clergymen? Yeah, I stay even further away from politicians. So, let's just say I hadn't been around Robert enough to know his sexual orientation. Had I known he liked men, I would have been a little more careful sending my sparrow. I saw Angela getting along with the (state) senator and decided to see where that could go, while simultaneously hoping I could end the bogus contract she had with Dwight. But I got a little careless. I haphazardly sent it toward Angela...who happens to sit next to a gay accountant named Oscar. You remember Oscar? I saw the sparrow kind of ricochet off of him before finding its way to Angela.

Oops.

I thought nothing of it until Oscar met Robert for the first time and it was made abundantly clear that I had made a huge mistake. But at that point, it was out of my hands. Angela had fallen for him…and so had Oscar.

The problem? Angela and the (state) senator had already married and had a baby by the time all this came to light.

Again. Oops.

Let's just say, we should all be glad Oscar can still walk, because it was NOT pretty when Angela found out. She and the (state) senator divorced and Oscar's relationship ended as well.

But wait. Before you feel too bad for Angela, remember that baby I mentioned earlier?

Spoiler alert! Not Robert's.

One guess on whose it is.

Yep.

Normally, I would frown on this. But by George, I have a soft spot for these two. So I meddled a little bit. I sent the tiniest of sparrows to each of them. Just a little reminder, if you will. And I'll have you know, it worked.

Dwight realized he loved her and always had, and the same went for Angela. She told Dwight her son was his and the rest is history. In fact, the reason I'm sitting in this office right now with these people, is because Dwight and Angela got married. Sure, they may have also gathered because of the documentary, but I like to think Dwight and Angela made their way into everyone's hearts the way they did to mine.

It was a bumpy road to bliss, to be sure.

But I really wanted that Blizzard.

For generations, the Schrutes have been a little bit of a mystery to me. When it comes to love, they have always seemed to do things a little differently. It's almost as if they are driven more by logic and practicality than by the heart. Are the woman's hips wide enough to birth a brood of big-headed Schrute babies to run the farm? Can the man identify 17 different varieties of beets by feel and taste alone? You know, just your average relationship checklist.

Dwight Schrute, for most of his adolescence and early adulthood, was no different. Sure, he was attracted to girls. He listened to 80's rock ballads about love on the regular. But he never really understood girls. To him, they were more of a means to an end. He had a desire. A female met the desire.

I realize that sounds pretty terrible. But you see, all Dwight knew was life on the farm. A boar sees a sow, a boar breeds with a sow, and the Schrutes are able to continue having bacon on the breakfast table.

As you can imagine, this type of practice didn't result in many long-term relationships for Dwight. Apparently women don't like feeling and/or being treated like a farm animal? Big shocker. Also not a shocker: Dwight was a little weird anyway. Let's just say they weren't exactly lining up. But he didn't mind. He was occupied with being the president of four clubs in high school. There was FFA, naturally. Then he was the head of the Magic the Gathering club, the Laser Tag club, and he also formed a Klingon club after being kicked out of the German club for uncited reasons. (The Klingon club had two other members. One was Dwight's friend Trevor, and the other was his cousin Mose, who didn't even attend the school.)

College wasn't much different. Dwight did have a girlfriend for a short while, but found she was impeding on his studies and he would settle for nothing but top student in each of his classes, so he dumped her rather abruptly.

All of this to say, Dwight wasn't inexperienced. But he certainly had much to learn about women.

When Angela Martin started at Dunder Mifflin, Dwight didn't initially notice her. He was busy building clientele and schmoozing up to the boss. But slowly he began noticing her work ethic and the way she seemed to scowl at Jim's antics. Enter a godly bet, and I saw my window to get them together.

And then a funny thing happened. Dwight started understanding.

He was the opposite of vegetarian, but made sure Angela always had vegetarian options. He would drive her to church. He would yell at Mose anytime he said a German curse word around her. He learned the names of her cats. Something about Angela fundamentally changed Dwight. He was sweet to her and swore to protect and defend her at any cost (and boy does Dwight have ways to defend, let me tell you).

Aaaaand then he killed Sprinkles.

I guess I understood his motivation behind it, but poor execution, my man. His farmer brain overrode his romantic heart and it cost him dearly. He was devastated.

Now, I have already given you an idea of what life was like for Dwight and Angela after that happened. As hard as they (well, mostly Angela) tried, they couldn't seem to stop seeing each other. I was getting pretty tired of them avoiding their actual feelings and hurting those around them, so I attempted a couple times to deter Dwight, if anything to get them to both realize what (and who) they actually wanted.

First deterrent was Isabel. Honestly, I wasn't sure my sparrow would do anything on her in regards to Dwight, but it did. And apparently Dwight had learned, *ahem*...how to put this delicately? He learned much more about a woman's body, thanks to actually caring about Angela's um...needs…while they were together. So that hooked Isabel after that first night. It wasn't really meant to be, though. Dwight's heart wasn't in it. So after a little while they stopped seeing each other regularly.

Then there was the matter of Esther. Esther Bruegger lived in the same farming community as the Schrutes, so Dwight had known her all her life. On paper, the two of them made perfect sense. She had a lot of the same quirks as Dwight, she loved the farm life, and she was actually interested in Dwight without my help (which is no small feat). I debated for some time about whether or not I should send a sparrow Dwight's way. I loved the idea of him and Angela together, and not just because of the bet I made with Venus. I genuinely felt like Angela brought out the best in him, when she usually brought out the worst in everyone else.

But that relationship seemed doomed. There were (state) senators, and contracts, and botched paternity tests, and stubbornness in the way. So I made the decision to send the sparrow to him for Esther. Before I could, however, Dwight had already made the decision to court Esther by himself.

It appeared that the old, practical, brain-driven Dwight had emerged and he began to simply check items off a list with Esther and if enough of the items fit his needs, that was good enough for him. Love played no part. I played no part.

When Dwight found out that Angela's child was supposedly not his, it was the nail in the coffin in his mind in regards to Angela. So he made the decision to propose to Esther. In his mind, it was as much a business deal as it was an engagement.

And I just. Couldn't. Take it.

So I meddled one last time, vowing to back off for good if it didn't work. I sent the smallest sparrow to Dwight to remind him of how Angela made him feel. How she had always made him feel.

And it worked.

He proposed, Angela told him Philip was his, and here we are.

Now on to Mose and his scarecrow…

I'm joking.

Mose scares the hell out of me.

Michael Scott is an idiot.

Really no way getting around that. But, despite being an idiot, he actually has a pretty pure heart (and I know hearts). I think it's important to take a look at Michael's early life to understand him as an adult.

All Michael ever wanted as a kid was to be liked. He wanted friends and he wanted to belong. His dad was out of the picture when he was just a baby and when his mom got remarried to Jeff, Michael kind of lost his footing on where he fit in his family. He wanted Jeff to like him, but Jeff was the worst. He never provided little Michael with the stability and love he craved.

So as Michael grew, he always knew (subconsciously or not) that he wanted something different for himself. He would find a girl to love and grow old with, and raise kids, and provide a life he never had.

But Michael is an idiot.

Honestly, he means well almost every time he does something that makes people around him cringe. Which is why I've always had a soft spot for him. And for all the jokes the man makes about sex, he honestly just wants to love and be loved. Often to a fault.

But because he can be an idiot, finding love hasn't always been easy. And chances are, when he gets close to finding it, he does something to sabotage it. I cannot express how truly frustrating it is to watch someone who I feel genuinely wants to find someone, who deep (deep) down understands my purpose, continually trip on their own feet.

Most of the time, Michael's downfall is his constant ability to go from zero to sixty almost immediately. You give him an inch and he'll take a mile. A classic example of this is Jan Levinson.

Jan is a whole other can of worms that I can't get fully into right now, but that can is full of a flaming hot mess. Let me tell you that. But she wasn't always that way. She was professional and poised. Then one fateful night she kissed Michael, which sparked a slow, downward spiral.

But this isn't about Jan.

Michael never saw Jan as anything more than a boss in the beginning. Sure, he found her attractive but even Michael knew he would never have a chance. That is, until she gave him reason to believe otherwise. In a moment of weakness following a messy divorce, she led Michael to believe he had a shot. And you can't just do that with a man that holds such grand delusions about himself and his life.

Michael saw love in their future.

Jan saw regret. So much regret.

She tried desperately to backpedal and erase their one night together, constantly shutting Michael down, refusing to acknowledge that anything at all happened, and loathing herself.

But things like passionate, spontaneous kisses in the parking lot of a fine establishment like Chili's? (I mean, have you tried an awesome blossom? It truly is awesome.) Those things don't just happen to Michael Scott, so you better believe he grabbed on with two hands and white-knuckled his way through her icy demeanor trying to make a relationship out of it.

Eventually, Michael loosened his grip and somehow managed to begin a relationship with his realtor, Carol. Now, I admit that I did sway Carol a little bit because I needed Michael to see there were other women besides Jan that could be interested in him. When she saw him with her kids at the ice rink, I knew that was my in. Was it a perfect match? Eh…perhaps not. But it did the trick.

What I didn't expect was Jan's jealousy to rear its ugly head. Color me surprised. And lucky for her, Michael, in true form, put the pedal to the metal with Carol and scared her off by proposing to her, leaving the door open for Michael to call Jan and invite her to Jamaica in Carol's place. Apparently Jan had some more self-loathing to do.

After they returned, word got out that they had gone together because after all, it's Michael. Of course word got out. Like I said, things like this don't just happen to Michael, so when they do, he will let. the people. know.

Bless his heart.

Now, I gave Jan an out. I didn't do so much as even look her direction, let alone send anything close to a sparrow. She was not persuaded by me. Yet somehow, she kept coming back. And not only that, she decided to actually make their relationship public.

After that, however, the novelty of dating his attractive boss began to wear off for Michael when he started to realize how poorly he was being treated by Jan. And honestly, I kind of hated her for it. Michael is the perfect candidate for me because of how badly he wants real love, but he also can't help give himself up to anyone who wants him. If someone shows interest, he puts on his blinders because he's being "loved", which is like a drug to him.

Thanks to the ladies in the office, he was able to see that he deserved better so he planned to break it off. Unfortunately, however, Michael apparently sees "deserving better" as "dating someone with a boob job", so when Jan came crawling in with a few enhancements, his eyes popped out like an old cartoon and he changed his mind.

Jan once said that if she dated Michael publicly, one of the downsides would be collapsing on herself like a dying star. Well, welcome to the collapse. Keep your arms and legs inside the ride.

Jan had what could only be described as a breakdown at work, resulting in her losing her job and immediately moving in with Michael, making him sleep on a tiny bench on the end of the bed, and spending all his money. Everything came to a head at a dinner party they hosted at their house. Michael had put up with so much, but the straw that broke the camel's back was Jan hurling a beloved "Dundie" trophy at his tiny little plasma screen TV. Dundie and TV trump boob job and Michael finally ended things.

I'm getting giddy just thinking of the next chapter of his story.

I have been doing this job for a very long time (literally forever) and I can count on both hands the number of couples who were better matched than Michael and Holly Flax. They were soup snakes, as Michael called them. She began working in Scranton in place of Toby Flenderson, who happened to be Michael's arch nemesis. So naturally, he thought Holly would be nothing short of terrible. Fairly quickly, (and with my help, thank you very much) Michael learned that not only was she not terrible, she was downright perfect for him. And for once, nearly everyone around them agreed. The most remarkable part of this all, isn't the fact that Michael found someone perfectly suited to him. The remarkable part was that he somehow managed to take it slow. He befriended her first. He got to know her. He also missed a few of her cues in the process, but it's Michael and we should still be impressed. Round of applause for Michael.

And they lived happily ever after, right?

Wrong.

Not yet, at least.

Michael and Holly's relationship was forced apart when David Wallace got wind of their relationship and transferred Holly to the Nashua branch and Holly felt the distance would be too much. It was a sad day in the realm of love, that's to be sure.

Michael was heartbroken but respected her wishes, only to learn several months later that she had begun dating someone else: AJ. Under any other circumstances, I would say that Holly and AJ made a good pair. AJ's one flaw was that he wasn't Michael Scott and I was skeptical that there was anyone more perfect for Holly than Michael.

To Michael's credit, he kept his cool about it. That's how I knew Holly was different. I know it sounds backwards, but the harder he clung to a relationship, like Jan, the more I knew it wasn't right. He loved Holly. Truly loved her. So when he found out she had seemingly moved on, he respected her enough to back off, even if it crushed him.

I also think that deep down he maybe knew it wasn't over. He understood their connection and perhaps hoped they could find their way back someday.

During this time with Holly in Nashua, Michael attempted to date. At Jim and Pam Halpert's wedding, he met Helene. Who happened to be Pam's mom. That went over with Pam about as well as you would expect (read: not well). But just as soon as Pam began to accept the relationship, Michael found out how old Helene was and the relationship was over about as quickly as it began. Probably for the best.

Michael also got himself involved with a married woman named Donna. He didn't know she was married at first, but once he found out...yeah, he still didn't do anything. He found it exciting to be "the mistress". It was something he had only seen in movies, so the fact that he was now making someone a cuckold was enticing. Eventually his conscience got the best of him, however and he ended it.

During this time, I was sending miniscule sparrow reminders to Holly in Nashua about Michael. (You know, for saying I don't meddle, I seemed to do it a lot for these folks. Huh.). I didn't necessarily want to break up her relationship with AJ. It was healthy and she was happy. But I didn't want her to forget about Michael either.

But when she got asked to come back to Scranton for a short time, I made those sparrows a little stronger. And once she realized how perfectly matched she and Michael had always been, she broke up with AJ and came back to Michael.

Thank the Gods. All of us.

There was one more thing that made me realize how much Michael loved Holly. That thing was his willingness to leave his family at Dunder Mifflin Scranton to marry Holly and join her in Colorado without a thought. This place, this office, these people--they were everything to him.

Until Holly became his everything.



(Okay maybe not his EVERYTHING. Can't forget about Ryan.)

Despite what many may think, often the very best matches I make don't just happen with a snap of a finger. The pathway from single life to marital bliss is rarely a straight line. Additionally, even when I know two people absolutely belong together, sometimes it's like a jigsaw puzzle trying to figure out how to get them together, like Holly and Michael. Things happen out of my control and as much as it irks me, mortals will ultimately make their own decisions and some of those decisions I simply can't predict.

Jim Halpert has always been one of my favorites. The kid has a good heart. Growing up, he wasn't always the goofy charismatic guy you'll see in the documentary. He was actually painfully shy during most of his young childhood. His two older brothers picked on him all the time and his baby sister couldn't join forces with him quite yet.

As he hit puberty and shot up a foot taller than everyone else, he began to gain some confidence. He was able to let his sense of humor come through. He made the basketball team, which helped his social status. But that shy kid was still in there, which if you ask me, helped him. He never got too full of himself and was generally kind to everyone around him, even if he did play a few pranks. Like I said, the kid has a good heart.

Throughout high school he went on dates with girls, kissed a few of them, (maybe touched some bases or whatever the term is. I don't understand mortal baseball). But he never really had one girl in particular—not one that stuck. I think internally he had a list in his head of what he wanted, even in high school, and none of these girls quite matched up.

The same happened in college. He had fun, no doubt. But underneath his humor and his charm, was a sensitive, hopeless romantic. He had a few girlfriends, but the relationships never lasted more than a few months before he got bored or found a reason to end it. He had a hard time letting just any girl in, at least not fully.

He graduated college and began working at Dunder Mifflin with a closet full of his dad's old suits and the expectation that this was a gateway job into his career. Everyone had to start somewhere. As he rode the elevator up to the office, he rolled up his sleeves and took a deep breath, only to have it catch again when he entered the office and saw the receptionist. There was something about her, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. I saw it happen. The shift. The immediate interest.

But she was engaged.

You see my predicament?

I couldn't send a sparrow her way, because that goes against everything I stand for. I get people together, I don't break them up. I don't break them up, even when I know they aren't truly meant for each other. It's part of the job.

But I watched Jim gravitate toward Pam (the receptionist) and I didn't have to lift a finger. I didn't need to persuade, or coerce, or convince. Sometimes people just know, without my help.

I saw Jim gravitate, but I also saw the constant internal battle raging. He knew Pam was engaged, and he tried desperately to keep things friendly and cross no boundaries. I saw him desperately try to convince himself that friendship was enough. But I also saw him toss and turn at night on days when Pam's fiance Roy came into the office. I saw him stare off into space, which as an expert, I recognized as daydreaming. I saw every stolen glance, every IM he deleted because it felt like too much, every smile he tried to hide when he watched her.

The heart can be merciless.

It took everything I had to stay out of it. Gradually Pam began gravitating too. Now I had these two people who were perfect for each other, inching closer, but one was unavailable and I had to sit back and watch. I can't feel physical pain, but if I could...oof.

You should also know that I don't use the word "perfect" lightly. I hear people say it all the time. "Oh, you two would be perfect for each other" or "They are the perfect couple". It begins to lose it's meaning. But trust me when I say, again: Jim and Pam were a perfect match. Remember that mental list I told you Jim had? I'll give you one guess how many of those Pam fit.

So I had to begin constructing the puzzle.

Which meant finding some loopholes.

Enter Katy Moore. She came into the office to sell purses, but I needed her for more than that (though I do appreciate a good handbag). I saw an opportunity. Granted, I had to swat away some other men in the office like mosquitos, but I was able to send a sparrow to Jim. Not a big one. Not a super convincing one, either. It was basically a sparrow with a broken wing. Strong enough to get his attention but not strong enough to change his mind about Pam.

Originally, my intention was simply to distract him from the constant longing. He wasn't sleeping, his productivity at work was declining, and I liked him too much to see it happening. But as things with Katy began unfolding, it actually worked more to my advantage than I anticipated. Let me explain.

I didn't want to intentionally break Roy and Pam up. I didn't want to risk causing any sort of infidelity. But I knew deep down that Pam felt more than friendship with Jim, whether she could admit it to herself or not. And placing Katy in Jim's path seemed to cause a spike in irritability with Pam. Suddenly Jim's attention was split and she didn't like it.

I was hoping she would come to this realization on her own and reevaluate exactly who Jim was to her and what she wanted from him. Unfortunately, old habits die hard. She resisted and denied and dug her heels in with Roy, trying to subconsciously prove to herself she was with the right guy.

But more on that later.

Okay, where are we? Oh yes. Michael Scott arranged to go on a "booze cruise" for a team building activity. Naturally, I tagged along. Jim brought Katy, but it had become pretty apparent to me that things were dangling by a thread there.

At one point during the night, I found Jim and Pam standing alone at the edge of the boat. Their usual joking started, but quickly I saw something register on Jim's face that was different. He stood there, looking at her like she held the answer to every last one of life's questions—like she was his moon, and stars, and every galaxy in between. Meanwhile, I stood back biting my knuckle so hard to keep from sending anything to Pam to help her see him. And I mean really see him. I told myself I would give it 30 seconds and if neither of them said anything, I would give Jim the final push he needed to tell her how he felt.

25...26...27…

"I'm cold."

Well, shit.

From there the night just continued to go downhill as I desperately tried to salvage something—anything. Roy got drunk and set a date for the wedding. Jim broke up with Katy ON A BOAT where she couldn't leave. Michael got handcuffed to the boat rails. Meredith lost her shirt somewhere in there. I mean…chaos. But despite all of that, I had a feeling I could get another chance with Jim and Pam. That was the closest they had gotten to figuring it out, and while the wedding date was a definite setback, I still had hope.


As the wedding date grew closer, I saw Jim begin to withdraw. Never fully, of course. You can't completely bisect a cord that's as tightly woven as the one the two of them had crafted. But his optimism dwindled with every wedding plan he overheard.

So he began looking for an escape route. He planned a trip to another hemisphere over her wedding date. (How she didn't realize his feelings right then and there will forever baffle me.)

And then one day he found the ultimate escape. A position at the Stamford, Connecticut branch opened up. If he got it, he wouldn't have to see a married Pam every day. He wouldn't have to pretend he liked jelly beans, he wouldn't hear "Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam" dozens of times a day, and he could try and find a way to move on. So he applied. And he got it.

Slowly, I could see my chance to get these two together slipping through my fingers. I knew I had to do something, even if it meant bending my rules a little.

During yet another Michael Scott company party, this time a casino night, I set my plan in motion. I knew Jim needed to tell Pam how he felt before he left and if you saw the way he looked at her from across the poker table, you would have agreed. There was just the little problem of her fiance also being at the party.

I'm not really supposed to tell anyone this but I kind of figured out how to use sparrows in other ways besides love. I can use them for general persuasion. Typically, I can pass this off as being "in the name of love" but it's still a little risky. As a God, it's best to stay in your own lane. You can imagine that when working alongside the all-powerful, you don't really want to piss anyone off.

So, "in the name of love", I persuaded Roy to go home early. I knew he would take the bait because there was a Flyers game on and he wasn't much for company parties anyway.

As he left, Jim and Pam were left in the parking lot alone together. I straightened my tie. This was my moment.

"Hey," Jim said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Quickly, I sent a sparrow to get him to tell her about the promotion. Only, I maybe-kind-of-sort-of-accidentally-on-purpose got that sparrow mixed up with the one that made him confess his love for her.

And boy, did he. He bore his soul. He let her know that all he needed her to know, just once, was that he was in love with her. That friendship alone simply couldn't sustain him anymore. And I think he could have done it without my help, to be honest. He had bottled this up for so long—hid behind the facade of friendship—that seeing her in that parking lot with that glint in her eye and her dress reflecting the glow of the moon so perfectly, that he really had no choice but to let the truth come out.

But it was too much. Maybe Pam knew he felt this way, but to hear him say it? To be forced to admit that maybe it wasn't all in her head? That maybe she felt the same? She shut down and went into autopilot, telling him she couldn't instead of wouldn't, and breaking his heart in the process.

This one was tough for me, folks. Really tough.

I was bending rules, but I still couldn't get myself to send a sparrow to Pam. Not about Jim, anyway. So I persuaded her to call her mom. I knew Helene, and I knew how she felt about Roy, and I knew she would possibly be able to help Pam understand her heart.

But before Helene could get her to fully understand, Jim walked in the door. He took her into his arms the way he had always wanted and breathed her in with his kiss. He wanted her to know that he wasn't going down without a fight (and neither was I).

And for reasons I may never understand, Pam still said no. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was habit, or fear, or denial…but she still said no.

He didn't know it, but I sat with him in his car afterward as he silently let the tears fall. For some reason, these two affected me in a way no other couple had and they weren't even a couple yet. I had never wished that I could go get a beer with someone more than I did in that moment.


But Jim pulled himself up by his bootstraps and made the move to Connecticut. Every morning began with a giant sigh and different bribery techniques to will himself out of bed. Sometimes it was stopping for good coffee, sometimes it was sending Dwight another fax from the future once he got to work.

And it wasn't all bad. Having a competent boss was a nice change of pace. He made more money now and his coworkers were fine enough. The city was quiet like Scranton. But he still thought about what—or who—he left there daily. He wasn't eating, sleeping, or living the way he wanted to. But it wasn't all bad.

And then there was Karen. I started to sense that this new coworker of Jim's was interested in him, without my help. I was torn. I saw the pain Jim was in. I saw how it almost turned into a physical ache for him. I desperately wanted to see him happy. But I wasn't sure Karen was the way for him to be happy again.

And she wasn't Pam.

So I didn't send Jim a sparrow. I probably should have, if nothing else but to give him a distraction, but I stayed out of it. However, as we all have learned, that doesn't always matter.

The Stamford branch ended up closing and as fate would have it, Jim would be heading back to Scranton. The night before the big move back, he went out with some coworkers for drinks. Maybe it was the way she casually kept touching his knee, or the way she kept looking at him from across the bar, or maybe it was just the fact that she didn't remind him of Pam the way every other damn thing in his life did, but he ended up taking Karen home that night.

I watched as he stared blankly at the ceiling, expressionless, as Karen slept next to him.

She wasn't Pam.

He felt like vomiting the entire drive back to Scranton the next day. He and Karen didn't talk much about what any of it meant, but he wasn't a one night stand kind of guy and she seemed into him. Which he had to admit, felt nice. So he wasn't shutting that door.

But he still had to go back to where his heart was shattered. He wondered if there were still fragments of it embedded in the carpet. That's how real—how physical—the heartbreak had felt. He opened the door to the office and there she was, looking as beautiful as ever, and his heart jumped to his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

But what Pam didn't know, was that before Jim even got out of his car in the parking lot that morning, he had already begun building an iron fortress around his heart. He couldn't hurt like that again and self preservation was all he had.

I watched him over the next few months. There would be flickers of hope. He would joke with Pam or I would catch him looking over to reception. But then he would retreat. His growing relationship with Karen gave him an excuse to tell himself that he had moved on.

But I knew better.

I stood on the sidelines for most of this. I felt I couldn't meddle with Jim and Karen for moral reasons, and Pam certainly didn't need any sparrows from me. I had hoped that Jim would come around on his own, but sometimes it's hard to piece together a heart that had been broken the way his had been. Eventually, however, I needed to step in. Find a loophole. Fine...I had to meddle.

I still couldn't get myself to mess with Jim and Karen. So instead, I persuaded Pam. I pushed her to do things that gave her confidence. I helped her find a little more voice. And finally I persuaded her to walk on some coals on the beach which ultimately led to her finally expressing her thoughts to Jim. To actually communicate something. To plant a seed with him that cracked the door a little wider for me.

Meanwhile, Jim was applying for a new position at corporate. Honestly, it pissed me off. I finally got him back in Scranton, got him to lower some walls, watched him consider what he wanted and why he left. And he was just going to leave again?! They never make this easy.

As I watched him in New York, I began to get nervous. I saw him considering the move. I saw him considering the move with Karen. Karen, who knew Jim still had feelings for Pam, who clung on despite that, and who made Jim cut his hair and roll down his sleeves. She didn't know him, and somehow was persuading him to start a new life with her.

Sorry, sweetie. Persuasion is my job.

So as Jim sat in that interview, I broke my cardinal rule for the very first time in centuries. I sent a sparrow. And it was a strong one. David Wallace asked him where he saw himself in 10 years and I let it fly. I painted a vivid picture of what he could have with Pam in the future. I showed him Christmases, and kids, and pranks upon pranks. I needed him to remember how she could make him light up even on his darkest days. How she could make him smile just by being in the same room. I held nothing back.

So yeah, I broke a rule. But you know what? I don't think his relationship with Karen was ever based on love. Not for him. She was a placeholder—a bandaid. She helped him forget, to numb, to deny…but it wasn't love. So I felt justified.

I'd make it up to Karen later.

He broke up with her and sped back to Scranton. It was time to start living again.

They began dating, secretly at first. There were months of stolen kisses in stairwells and elevators. Days filled with the building anticipation and nights filled with the sweet relief of being together. Jim would stay awake, but this time it was because he couldn't believe they had made it here. He couldn't stop staring at her as she slept beside him, wondering how any dream he might have would ever be better than this.

Things moved quickly, but not when you consider how long love had been a part of their story. Perhaps it had been there the entire time and now they were just playing catch up.

They got married, started a family, and began a life they had both only dreamed of.

But there always has to be something, doesn't there?

Just because they were perfect for each other, doesn't mean they were perfect. Communication had always been a bit of a struggle for the two of them, and when Jim had the opportunity to start a new company, he failed to communicate and include Pam in the process and she failed to let him know her feelings from the start. While Jim felt he was doing what was best for his family, it left Pam alone for days at a time with their two kids with no end in sight and a marriage that was quickly falling apart.

And I couldn't let it happen. Not after everything it took to get them together.

After a day of "speaking their truth" and feeling awkward and empty, Jim had to leave to Philadelphia again. I worked my magic in the office first, by convincing Pam that he absolutely needed the umbrella he left on the desk. Then I rushed to meet Jim in the taxi.

In that office in New York all those years ago, I showed him what his next ten years could be like. This time I reminded him of what his last ten years had looked like. And while Pam hadn't been his for all of those years, she had always been there. She had been a constant, a reprieve, a home. And there was no way he could ever let that go.

And he never would again.

I'm not supposed to have favorites.

I'm supposed to stay neutral so I can make matches fairly and equally.

But since when do I do what I'm "supposed" to do?

I am fond of a fair amount of people I encounter. Really admire and like them. But every once in a while I come across someone really special. Like Betty White.

But this isn't about Betty White. This is about Pamela Morgan Beesly. One of my very favorites.

That may come as a shock to some. Pam is often reserved—quiet. She's not flashy and she doesn't call attention to herself. Some might call her ordinary (which, I'd disagree), but as I've mentioned: there is beauty to be found in ordinary things. And Pam was full of beauty.

But let's back up. It comes as no surprise, but Pam was also shy as a child. She preferred to stay home and draw instead of run around and play outside with friends. She was imaginative and curious. She always dreamt of what her life would be like when she was older. In her visions there was a house with a terrace, a dog, maybe a couple of kids. But most importantly, there was a husband who would be her knight in shining armor. He would be tall and handsome and treat her like a princess.

As she grew older and got into high school, that image remained in the back of her mind. She didn't date much and mostly kept to herself, but she was always observing. Such is the way of an artist.

Over Christmas break during her freshman year of high school, her parents dragged her along to a holiday party for her dad's work. She hated being introduced to all his coworkers and putting on a smile as they all said, "Wow, you've grown!" and made small talk about school and boys (ha) and whatever else. Finally, she was able to sneak away to a secluded corner. She pulled out a small notebook from her purse and began doodling. She was halfway through a caricature of her dad's boss when she heard a voice behind her shoulder. Instinctually, she covered her drawing with her arm.

"You hate these things too?" the voice asked.

She turned to see Roy Anderson, a boy she knew from school standing there.

She brought her hand up to tuck her bangs behind her ear nervously. "Yeah, they kind of blow."

"Right?! All these adults trying to talk to you and seem interested or whatever."

Pam smiled. "Yeah, totally."

He sat down at the table next to her. "I'm Roy, by the way."

She looked at her shoes, unsure if she should tell him she knew who he was. She settled on, "Anderson, right? You're on the football team."

"Wait, you go to Valley View?"

She just nodded. Of course he didn't know who she was.

"That's awesome! So…what's that?" He gestured to her drawing.

She blushed and flashed the drawing to Roy who let out a laugh. "That's hilarious! You're really good at drawing."

They continued to talk and Pam couldn't get over the fact that he seemed to genuinely want to talk to her. She didn't get noticed much and now a popular boy at school was laughing and talking with her.

I should interject here. As a general rule, I don't send sparrows to the underage. I have found that they're too unreliable and finicky and their moods change more often than I can keep up with. So I just let what happens, happen. More often than not, they don't make it past high school graduation.

But every so often, I get some who stay together. Then I'm faced with the conundrum of what to do with them. I don't want to ever break them up, but on the other hand…let's just put it this way: often the first choice isn't the best choice.

Let's continue.

Pam and Roy began talking at school when they came back from break. Then talking turned into studying and studying turned into studying. Perhaps Roy wasn't exactly what she had always envisioned, but it was only high school and he really did seem to like her, despite their differences. He was loud, she was not. He liked parties, she did not. But they made it work. And Pam would be lying if she said it wasn't kind of cool to be dating someone as popular as Roy. When Roy would do something stupid, he was always able to soften her back up with an apology and something that she couldn't help but smile at. Before I knew it, it was senior year and the two were still together. It had become comfortable to Pam. She didn't like change and Roy had become a constant.

For years, Pam had always wanted to attend Pratt after high school. She had the grades and had been working very hard on her art portfolio. But it was in Brooklyn. Roy's grades couldn't get him into a school anywhere near there. And even if they could, he told Pam he didn't want to leave. For weeks it ate at her. She wanted Pratt, but she and Roy had been together so long and she loved him. She did. (She thought she did. I kind of speculated. But this isn't my story.)

So eventually she decided to attend Marywood while Roy went to Lackawanna Junior College. She got a job at the local Denny's while attending classes full time. After a couple years in school, she and Roy decided to move in together. But with that, came more bills and responsibility. Roy decided college wasn't for him (read: he flunked out) and with the mounting pressure to support their new life together, Pam decided to stop taking classes. Just for a year, she told herself.

A year turned into three and Roy went through twice that many jobs in that time. Eventually, Pam found her reception job at Dunder Mifflin. The pay was higher, the hours were better, and she wasn't on her feet as long as she was while waitressing. When she was at her interview, she saw the warehouse was hiring as well and told Roy he should apply when she got home. He grumbled, but ultimately applied and they both got the jobs. At least they could save on gas, she thought.

About three weeks after she started, a new salesman got hired—a mister Jim Halpert. There was something in his smile as he first walked through the door. It was warm—genuine. She felt like he somehow already knew her and he hadn't even said a word to her yet. She stood up and smiled back.

"You must be Jim."

"In the flesh," he shrugged, and lifted the corner of his mouth into a half-smile. (That half-smile has been my best friend when sending sparrows to women about Jim. He's quite a handsome fella.)

Their friendship basically began from the moment they met. On Jim's first day, they ended up eating lunch together. Eventually Toby came into the break room and told Jim there was some paperwork he still needed to fill out. After Jim left, Pam realized she still had a smile plastered on her face.

It was nice to have a friend at work, she thought.

Man, I wanted to send so many sparrows. Freakin' moral compass or whatever…

Jim and Pam's friendship ripened quickly. Subtly, Jim began replacing Roy in a lot of ways. Pam stopped telling Roy about the drama passed around in the circle of Dunder Mifflin receptionists and instead, she told Jim while he smiled behind his ham and cheese sandwich at lunch. She told herself it was because Jim knew a few of the receptionists and so it made more sense, but I knew it was because Jim actually listened to her stories instead of just nodding with his eyes still fixed on whatever sporting event was happening on the TV.

Pam told herself a lot of things.

And I just had to sit back and watch.

I had to watch while she gave up on opportunities because it wasn't in Roy's plans.

I had to watch her censor herself when talking to him because she knew he wouldn't be interested or would brush her off.

And ultimately, I had to watch as she fell in love with her coworker but was too deep in her relationship to even realize it was love.

Because as far as she knew, she had been in love since she was 15 and it felt nothing like this.

There were times I saw her question or toe the line with Jim. She became very good at separating work life and home life, even with Roy working downstairs in the warehouse. At work, she would loosen a bit. She would subconsciously flirt or find a reason to be physically close. But then Roy would come upstairs and would bleed into this space she had carved out for Jim, causing her to tighten the slack—straighten and correct course. To remind her subconscious that this was nothing more than friendship.

I remind you, I get to know people. Sometimes I get to know people even better than they know themselves. So it was hard to see Pam blossom around Jim only to retreat around Roy and to not have her understand what that truly meant—what she could have—and most of all, not be able to do anything about it.

Until I did.

Whoops.

I sent that sparrow to Jim in the parking lot, urging a confession out of him, sure she would finally get it and realize what she had been feeling for years had been love, not just friendship.

But she had already gotten so used to constantly defending her relationship with Roy to herself, that now that it was being questioned in earnest, she habitually put up her walls. But as Jim walked past her, brushing away that rebellious tear from his cheek, her defenses were punctured and the doubt trickled in.

Unfortunately, not fast enough.

Even as he snaked his arms around her and pulled her into his body and finally answered every question she had with his lips and his gaze and his hands—her tattered armor remained. Her heart pounded against it and pleaded to just let him in, but it wasn't enough for her mouth to say the words her heart felt until it was too late.

Jim was gone.

I was defeated.

But I wasn't giving up just yet.

It took Jim leaving to really cause Pam to dissect her relationship with Roy. Had she ever been happy with him? I think the answer was definitely yes, but it was as if there was a finite amount of happiness she could have with him and she had reached that limit long ago. Now she needed more. She had grown and outgrown their relationship and Jim flipping her world upside-down exposed the flaws and the bursting seams. She knew it was time to move on.

This is where Pam started to climb my list of favorites. I was always fond of her. She observed people, much like I did. She was kind and genuine. No, she didn't always get it right, but you'll be hard pressed to find a human who does. But after she broke up with Roy, I saw her come into her own. I saw as she figured out who she was outside of being "Pam and Roy" and became just "Pam". There were plenty of times she found herself curled in the corner of her new apartment, knees hugged to her chest and tears in her eyes, but she wiped those tears and kept going. And while she missed Jim fiercely, I think this time was crucial for her.

She brought out her watercolors again. The motivation to paint had waned over the last couple of years, but now it was her favorite outlet.

There were a few dates, but nothing that really planned out. Nobody seemed to fit. Maybe I just knew they'd never compare to Jim, but I couldn't get myself to send any sparrows.

Then she got word of Jim's return to Scranton. They had reconnected accidentally over the phone while he was in Stamford but she couldn't stop smiling thinking about seeing him in person. She didn't know what to expect, honestly. But she had long come to the realization that it had never been just friendship between them. And now she understood herself better than ever before.

She heard his voice first, which turned her stomach into a flurry of butterflies. Then she saw him and his smile sent warm shivers through her. She had missed him so damn much. She hugged him tightly around the neck, taking in the familiar scent of aftershave and fabric softener.

Things looked hopeful. Until they didn't. Slowly, it became apparent that the Jim she knew never made it back to Scranton.

This confidence Pam had begun to gain since leaving Roy slowly began to fade. She finally understood what it must have been like for Jim. It was painful to watch him with Karen and feel so…left behind.

But she still had her watercolors. She had enrolled in art classes—something Roy always said she shouldn't do ("You already know how to do art, Pammy" Ugh. That guy). She sat down one night at her secondhand kitchen table, paints in front of her, and began pulling them across the page.

When she finished, she surprised even herself. It was a painting of the building she worked in. It was the place she found herself. Her hand ran over the painted parking lot. It was the place she met Jim. The place where she lost him. Twice. It would always be more than a building for her.


The further Jim seemed to get, the more she began to wonder if she imagined or inflated what happened the night of the casino party. She questioned everything. So when Roy showed up again, the familiarity she craved reared its ugly head, and she let it take a hold of her again.

(To be honest, I may be partly to blame. I was trying to get Toby Flenderson and his wedding date together with a sparrow and Roy got in the way and caught some of it and it caused him to shoot his shot with Pam. I can never seem to get it right with Toby. Poor guy.)

Thankfully, once Roy's true and classic colors came shining through (and broke some mirrors in the process), Pam remembered why she left. She may not be able to have Jim, but she had realized what she deserved and it wasn't Roy. It was so much more. So she called it off for the second and final time, reviving the Fancy New Beesly she had begun to develop the summer after she inadvertently shattered her own heart and picked up the pieces.

During this whole time I had been trying to find my loopholes. Ways to push these two knuckleheads together without breaking my rules. Then I saw an opening.

Michael had brought the members of the office to the beach for some team building activities. One of those was a hot coal walk. As far as Michael saw it, it was a flop. Nobody wanted to do it. But it was my opportunity with Pam. I sent a sparrow, reminding her of something Jim had told her before: "You've gotta take a chance on something sometime, Pam."

She was tired of being complacent. Tired of standing back and just letting things happen to her. She thought of Jim and how scared she was to speak up when he bore it all in that parking lot. So she took a breath and walked across the coals. She was strong. She was capable. She was Pam friggin' Beesly.

And that rush led her to finally be honest with Jim. And let me tell you, I could have kissed her. (Platonically, of course. I'm not into mortals.) She was cracking the door for me to make something happen.

But she learned that Jim applied to a job at corporate. If you watch the documentary, you'll see that Pam slipped a note with a yogurt lid into Jim's interview papers. You're probably assuming that was my doing. But you would be wrong. That was all Pam, and another reason she was my favorite. I don't know if she knew the effect it would have on Jim, but I love that she sent it anyway. I love that even though they were navigating some rocky waters, she knew what Jim cherished.

After I broke my rules and sent the sparrow to Jim in New York, I sat back and observed. I saw Pam at her desk. She was so different from the young Pam I met at the holiday party when she was 15. She had figured out who she was and could stand up for herself. She had come to terms that even if it was just her, she liked herself enough to have that be okay. And in my opinion, that made this timing so perfect.

Jim, the real Jim, showed up and whisked her off her feet, but she knew she didn't have to rely on him to be happy. She could do that herself, but boy, did he enhance everything. He illuminated it. They were good on their own, but even better together.

And for a while, their life was pretty picture perfect. I saw them navigate a long distance relationship while Pam finally made it to Pratt, Jim's full support under her wings. They became parents and even through the sleepless nights and self doubt and insecurities, Jim loved her fully, if not more than he had before.

But as you know, things aren't always perfect. Jim and Pam had settled into a comfortable groove. Familiarity was Pam's friend, remember? And suddenly Jim was disrupting everything she knew. He started a new company without telling her. He spent their savings without clearing it with her. He made all these plans without her and didn't seem to see what it was doing to her. She was worn out. She was confused.

Deep down, she knew Jim's intentions. He wasn't Roy, not even close. She knew he was doing this for their family, for her, for their future. But was it supposed to feel this lonely?

For me, seeing them struggle was difficult. Each provided fault in this situation. Jim obviously should have gone about everything differently. And Pam should have voiced her true concerns from early on. But regardless, they found themselves fraying at the edges as they tried to make it work.

I knew them from the beginning. I knew who they were at their core. And I couldn't let it fall apart.

As I mentioned, as Jim left one afternoon to catch a cab to Philly, I sent a sparrow to Pam. Just a small thought that it might rain and Jim would need his umbrella. She figured it was motherly instinct, but I knew better.

She barely caught him before he left. By this point I had already worked my magic on Jim. Now it was time for one last sparrow.

I had her remember their wedding. She remembered those two kids, wet hair and severed tie, standing in that church already secretly married. She remembered the promises they made to each other. She remembered just how much they had gone through to be standing there together. And with Jim's arms already wrapped around her, she remembered just how much she didn't want to do any of this life without him. She threw her arms around his neck and promised herself they would figure it all out because there was simply no other way.

They really should name that parking lot after them.

*****

So that brings us here. The documentary has aired. Dwight and Angela are finally married. I'm sitting in the office with these people who have given me countless headaches. They're idiots and they're stubborn and they're clueless.

And I kind of love them.

Beauty in the ordinary. Am I right?