Pam stared in the mirror for a good five minutes before taking her hair down. She wasn't that old. Why did she look it now? You know damn well why, a small voice in her head answered.

She washed her face, the small amount of makeup she wore slipping off. Sometimes she felt the mask she wore all day fade away too. Swirling down the drain and letting her be herself for such a small moment in time. I can be me tomorrow, she would think to herself. After ten years of feeling like someone else, I will be me. But then reality settled in and so did the fear. Roy knew this Pam, not the real Pam. He wouldn't accept the real Pam.

She could never be herself with Roy. Slowly, for the last three years, she had come to realize this. He didn't allow her to open up, be the strong woman she really was deep down. The artist she loved to be. The excitable, kind, and passionate person she always had been. With Roy, she was dull. She was boring sweaters and white Keds. She answered phones, transferred calls, and sat at her desk from nine until five.

But tonight...

Tonight had stirred her. The only person who could ever bring her true self out was Jim, and he had done it again tonight. His confession had shocked her and his kiss electrified her. He had started the slow deterioration of the fake Pam three years ago and after tonight she knew she could never go back to the way she used to be.

She turned the faucet off and wandered into the bedroom. She didn't know why she told him she would still marry Roy. She was so unsure now. Jim brought out the best in her and Roy, the worst.

Maybe, she thought, as she climbed into bed, maybe if I sleep on it, I'll feel better tomorrow.

The morning after. As with a hangover, Pam didn't even want to get out of bed. She knew today was going to hurt. She'd much rather just lie here, close her eyes, and pretend last night never happened.

Unfortunately, no matter how much she wanted to delay this day, the minutes would just keep ticking. So she slid out of bed and began getting ready for work. Her mind buzzed quickly. What will I say to Jim? What can I say? Anything? How can I make this right? What about Roy? What about me? How did this get so wrong? Can this even be fixed? She stared silently into the mirror, brushing her teeth, no answers presenting themselves. Life, Pam thought to herself with a sigh, was odd. No matter how old you get, it still never gets any easier.

She walked into the kitchen to find Roy finishing the last of the cereal. She sighed. Nothing ever changed. Roy was a nice guy, but inconsiderate. She'd known that about him for so long. Why now did it finally bother her almost too much? She sat at the table with him and at that moment, she felt it. She was no longer in love with him. Not one fiber of her being was. She was unhappy, a shadow of herself, and she could not take it any longer. This lame excuse for existence would not last.

But. She just couldn't bring herself to say all this so early in the morning. Not over breakfast. This was a dinner conversation, or a commute conversation. Not over one person's breakfast.

The drive to work was quiet, but that was nothing strange. Roy kissed her goodbye as he headed to the warehouse and Pam didn't kiss back. She wasn't sure if he noticed or not.

She walked into her office and was more than a little relieved to see Jim's desk empty.

“Pam!” Michael strolled over to her desk as she threw her jacket over her chair. “Good morning!”

“Morning, Michael,” she said. He grinned and looked at her expectantly. She sat in her chair and gave him her best blank stare. The cameras were watching and she knew he was waiting so they would hear.

“Well?” He waggled his eyebrows. Pam sighed. She hated taking his bait, but did anyway.

“Well, what?”

Michael snorted. “Aren't you going to ask how last night went?”

Pam glanced at the cameras. She was beginning to hate them just as much as everything else she was beginning to hate.

“Okay. Michael, how did last night go?” She asked as she swiveled her chair around and looked for something, anything, else to do.

“Excellent!” He lowered his voice, but glanced at the camera and said “I got laid!”

“Wow,” Pam replied, shocked. She was speechless and only ten minutes of the work day had passed.

“Mm-hmm,” Michael said with proud smile. “Anyway, Jim called about ten minutes ago. Said he was going to take that vacation to Australia early. Use that vacation time he had stacked up.” He drummed his fingers on the desk and walked back to his office.

Pam sat there for a full minute. She hadn't actually believed Jim would take that vacation. She thought it was just an excuse to get out of attending her and Roy's wedding. A wedding that now, she was very sure was not going to happen.

It was raining. Pam didn't know why it had to choose this night, of all the nights, to rain. A little too dramatic for her taste. But, she was going to have this conversation, rain or no. She sat on the bed (their bed) and waited for Roy to come out of the bathroom (their bathroom). She panicked for a moment. It's been too long, ten years. This is our stuff, our lives. Can I start over? No. I can't do this, I'm too scared. I have to, I'm not happy. I'm not happy. She wasn't this bold, she didn't know why she was pretending to be. Finally, Roy emerged. She took a deep breath.

“Hey, babe,” Roy said, throwing a washcloth onto the bed (not their bed, not after tonight).

Pam faltered. “Hey.”

Roy smiled and walked into the living room. Dammit, Pam thought to herself. She hadn't even started this conversation and already he was taking the lead.

“Roy,” she said firmly, as he sat on the couch. He glanced up and turned the TV on. “I need to talk to you. Now. Without the television.”

He looked up at her, curious, but not concerned. This frustrated her. To her surprise, he turned the TV off. “All right, what is it?” He made room for her on the couch, knowing after many arguments with her that she liked to sit next to him and make him really understand. She knew, though, he really just humored her and zoned out most of the time.

This time though, she stayed standing in the door frame between the bedroom and the living room. Maybe this way he would know she meant business.

Jesus, how do you start this? “Roy...this...we... I can't do this,” she blurted out. Roy raised an eyebrow.

“Can't do this? Can't do what?”

Pam stared at him. This wasn't how she envisioned this taking place. When she ran through the speeches in her head, they were much more eloquent. They were short, sad, but final and she left without regrets and never looked back. Reality, in fact, was much harder.

“This, Roy, as in you and me. Us. We're not working, we haven't been for a long time. There's just too much that I don't know, and I'm not happy, and I don't think you know me anymore, and I just feel like I can-I don't know, do more? Be more, and be happy again, but-” she rushed out. She realized she was beginning to ramble, but she couldn't stop. If she stopped now she wasn't sure if she could begin again. “But ten years can't help the fact we just don't know each other anymore, and I love you, but I'm not in love with you, and I don't think I ever will be again, y'know, feel that fire and passion-”

“Pam,” he interrupted quietly. He looked like he was going to say more, but his mouth moved and no words came out. “I. You. This can't be happening.” He sat up straighter on the couch and ran his hands over his hair.

Pam joined her hands in front of her and looked down at them. There was so much more to say, but she didn't know if she could. She couldn't believe this was happening either. Ten years together and look where we are now.

He stared at the floor. “What about the wedding? It's so close and...” he trailed off. “I set the date, Pam. I thought that's what you wanted. To get married, to make that commitment. I did it for you.”

She began to cry softly. “I know. But...Roy, I can't marry someone I don't love anymore. It's not fair to either of us.” She looked up at him and couldn't think of anything else to say. She sighed. “Roy, I can't explain every single reason this went wrong, tonight. I just...need to go now. I'll come back for my stuff later, and maybe we can talk about this longer. Right now, I just need to go.”

She started for the door. Roy stood up, awkwardly, not sure what the proper etiquette was for this sort of situation. He settled on standing in place until she reached the door. She turned back for a moment and found him close.

“Roy,” she paused, knowing nothing had come out right, nothing real had been said. “I haven't painted in almost three years.”

Pam let her sentence hang in the air. Roy nodded, but she couldn't be sure he understood the weight of the statement. Not entirely, anyway. She turned and began walking down the driveway, just now realizing Roy had the only car and she had nowhere to go. The front door clicked.

Pam pulled out her cell phone. She wanted to call Jim, but knew he was out of the country and probably not too keen on talking to her, even with the news she would have. The only place she could go would be the nearest supermarket and have her mother come pick her up from there. She dialed.

“Mom? Can you come pick me up? I have some...news.”