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And I don't think we'll get out of this hell,

But the time here with you has been nice.

A cold love, bloody knuckle, trigger finger,

Riding on the edge of mind...

A salute to the end of the world,

And a beautiful end for you girl.

Angels with Enemies, Lovedrug

Most days I know I'm over it.

Her.

So my little charade today was nothing.

I knew she would love it, but I didn't do it for her.

It didn't matter that Karen rolled her eyes, asking why I wasted so much time on a person I couldn't stand, because Pam pursed her lips, let her eyes follow me across the room.

I felt her grin on the back of my neck. Knew, if it were a different time... a different place, she'd have appeared at my side with a "Hey, Dwight," and mentioned something about needing karate lessons from an expert like "me."

She didn't.

Because we've made an 11 month career of pretending to forget...

I haven't.

I haven't forgotten the grin on her face when I ran for Michael's office.

(Or the feel of her waist in my hands, lips on mine.)

Still. I didn't do it for her.

God knows what possessed me.

Obviously the glasses. They took hold of my mind and... there was no other option.

I was Dwight K. Schrute.

Okay, not really. Too frightening to think on.

But, God, it was funny. Only slightly trumped by his attempt to be me...

Strange, how she told Dwight he "looked nice today," when I'm fairly certain she's never said that to me.

Not that it matters...

I didn't do it for her.