It all seemed so easy. If you listen to the fans, me and Jim would be together already, having sex like rabbits. Life is more complicated than what is shown on the television.

        None of us had expected the response to the documentary finally airing. Michel had made a big deal about it of course, but for most of us, we just passed the day with a mark on the calendar.

        For the first few years, I basically ignored the show. I caught a few episodes, and realized that editing plays a big role.

        Roy wasn’t as much of a dolt as they portrayed him. I guess, once they knew the outcome, they tried to explain it. They never showed the time he gave me flowers for no reason. They didn’t air the talking heads we did together. We were good together. I know no one really believes it now. Everyone thinks I was stupid for staying with him so long. I was, I know. But, I was happy. Deciding to leave was hard.

        Jim wasn’t the only reason we broke up. No. Jim was a factor, sure. A big factor. But, again, editing is everything. I mean, yeah, Jim was great. But, he is only human. He had his off days. Some days he would get fed up with Dwight or Michael and leave. He didn’t always remember everything about me. Jim was Jim; he was great, but, not always. He wasn’t the saint that people seem to worship him as.

        And me, well, I dunno where I stand in all of this. I guess, unfortunately, I did kind of let Roy walk all over me. But as I said, he wasn’t as bad as he seems. It was life, not some scripted show. So, analyzing it just stupid. Because, as we all know, hindsight is 20/20. I would have done some things differently, I’m sure. But, whatever.

        As the series progressed, I got a lot of grief from my friends. They knew that I wasn’t with Jim, but I guess I hid how much it hurt me pretty well. They kept yelling at me, “Why did I do that, Why didn’t I do this?” One friend took a more direct approach; she sent me a link to a Jim Pam fan site of sorts. Very surreal, I must say.

        I didn’t spend much time on the site right then; I was at work, and nothing would be more embarrassing than being caught on a fan site like that.

        At home, I changed into my pajamas, got a glass of wine, and signed on again. It was amazing. I had been living in a bubble apparently, ignoring the show. It had taken on a life of its own.

        I had nearly a hundred windows opened up on my computer. Wallpapers, videos, icons, anything and everything. My favorite was the stories. Some of them, so much detail, it hurt to read. It was my life they were talking about. It hurt because, well, truthfully, the endings were a lot happier than real life. I mean, really, ending the evening by kissing Jim, or end the evening alone, in pajamas reading fanfic. Not a hard choice.

        Looking back, not sure what made me do it. Maybe it was part Fancy New Beesly with the added courage component. Maybe part the alcohol (I had polished off half the bottle by this time). I printed out my favorite story; I highlighted my favorite line, “It’s about the small moments. The smiles. The swaying. It’s about grilled cheese sandwiches and fireworks. But, I guess when it comes down to it, it’s simple. It’s about love.”

        I stuck it in my purse. I carried it around nearly a week. After the alcohol wore off, it didn’t seem like such a good idea. Jim was with Karen, and she was nice (despite how she was portrayed on the show, we were good friends). But, that Friday, it happened. Jim gave me one of his kilowatt smiles (the one where you can forget everything, the one that makes you fall in love). After Jim and Karen went out to lunch, I left the story on Jim’s desk (in a sealed envelope, away from Dwight’s prying eyes – fyi – Dwight is as bad on camera as in real life). I told Michael I was sick and would be gone the rest of the afternoon.

        Okay, that last bit wasn’t as courageous as it could be. But, I wasn’t sure how Jim would react. I didn’t want to be there when it happened. It was like opening a gift in front of the person who gave it to you – awkward central. If it didn’t go over well, I could go in Monday and act like it never happened.

        I spent the rest of the day waiting impatiently. I kept reading more fics, hoping to get ideas (but it kept getting more and more depressing as time went on. It seemed so easy in the stories).

        By eleven, I had shut off my computer, and got changed. It wasn’t going to happen. I had to accept that. Jim had moved on. I had just climbed into bed when the doorbell rang. I think I broke some records sprinting for the door.

        Jim was standing there, soaking from the rain outside. “It’s about love, is it?”

        I nodded, tears streaming down my face.

        Not much else happened, because a second later, we were wrapped up in each other’s arms, kissing the hell out of each other.

        When we finally broke apart for air, I realized maybe it was that simple.