Don’t leave me behind

You lost something at the airport

A tragic life in five six parts (aka five unrelated incidences of loneliness)

i.

Andy volunteered to stay back and sign for a delivery. He doesn’t really get why it’s coming so late, but nobody looks at him when they leave, and Dwight reorganizes the kitchen before slowly walking out the door. The first day was littered with awkward glances and nobody will quite meet his eyes.

At 6:30, he wonders what he would be doing at his apartment. Friday was drinks with his a cappella group back in Stamford. He isn’t friends with anyone from the office (“Fact. I’m onto you.”) and he doesn’t know where the Scranton ladies hang out, so he’d probably just drink - maybe call Michael.

It’s funny being in a brand new town; he doesn’t know the place, or the people, and all the funny mannerisms are seriously lame. Stamford wasn’t a bad town; he knew exactly where the soap he liked was and where all his pals hung out. Now he’s sitting in the office, alone, staring at the carpet by the light of his computer monitor.

The quiet isn’t comforting, and he doesn’t feel like singing (no point without an audience to witness the sexiness), so he drums his fingers on the desk and waits.

At least in Scranton he is totally number three. And he just knows that stuff may be totally lame now, but it will get better. (The apartments here are cheaper, so...score Team Andy.)

ii.

Pam isn’t the last one to leave (and those dreams have faded anyway). She doesn’t mind sitting on the couch alone, or sketching on the dining room table. And she’s actually starting to enjoy hearing the hum of the refrigerator (and sometimes her own heart).

The problem is that rubbing her eyes is getting old, and she feels pressure around her temples whenever she thinks about telling him. She buys a silky shirt and runs her fingers along the seams, imagining that the life before her is as smooth as the fabric. She wants to make this about him, but her stomach doesn’t flutter anymore, and her shoulders relax when they smile, and it’s simple again.

Michael sends her an e-vite to a party for her anniversary (four whole years at Dunder-Mifflin), and her stomach drops.

She looks at jobs in New York and catches herself adding up apartment costs. She can taste possibility and she feels content and the house of cards is more stable than ever.

She wants to be herself again.

Give up an old friend to be herself? Fair trade.

iii.

He cries when Pam leaves because, even though he’s proud, it always hurts when one of the birds leaves the nest. Even though Jan points out that she’s still with Dunder-Mifflin (“For now,” under her breath is a secret he won’t touch), and even though Ryan being up front is nice in a nostalgic way (betrayal notwithstanding), he can’t get rid of the nagging feeling in his gut.

He’s her boss, and if she feels she has a reason to leave, he should fix it. The next week he tries to make a joke of it, but “She bulldozed you with that one, Jimmy” gets a lot of awkward glances, and he chalks it up to them not getting the chemistry between his two lovebirds.

No matter what Jim says, Michael Scott is no fool, no sir-ee. He decides to take a sick day and drive up to see Jan because even though Pam left Jim for fancy New York, it doesn’t mean the same thing will happen to him. He is a champion of true love.

iv.

When he finds out that they are moving he can’t speak. He doesn’t think he should feel angry, but something rises from his toes and for a horrifying moment he thinks his face is red and he might yell and become something strange and out of control.

Instead, he breathes in and asks how far - and how are they going to handle his weekends with Sasha?

He rubs her back and puts her favourite doll on her lap and waves until the blood leaves his arm and he has to stop. He feels like he should want things to be the way they were before, but he doesn’t. Even though being married would mean having his daughter and a home and a routine that didn’t leave him empty, he can’t bring himself to wish for it.

He goes inside and throws out the kitchen chairs, which he picked out because she liked the color of his kitchen, even though they were divorced.

That dream is finally gone. He hopes he finds something else.

v.

He goes with Karen to some camping site his brother recommended because he’d teased her about being tough and she’d called him a softie, so they were braving the wild.

They take her car (the tents fit better), but she lets him drive (“Just to keep your confidence up”), and they laugh at Dwight’s list of camping tips and his top ten threats of the wild.

When they get there, Karen helps him unload, swinging sleeping bags around clumsily and grinning every few minutes and swearing that she just liked the “camping smoke smell”.

He’s really glad that he can laugh and feel grown-up. Even though he’s watching her try to juggle a cooler, her duffel bag, and a sleeping bag, he feels like an adult, like he’s going somewhere.

By the time it’s dark, his fingers are scraped and sore from sticks and baggage and “heavy-lifting”, so they don’t talk, they just watch the fire and the stars and he doesn’t feel like something is between them. (A wall and this isn’t doomed)

He decides not to chase something childish.

vi.

When Mose decides that he wants to go into hypnotic healing (he knew those infomercials would lead to no good), Dwight doesn’t think too much of it. As his cousin lacks the commitment and forceful determination to be successful outside the farm, he feels confident that it will soon blow over. (Angela doesn’t approve either.) Besides, he works on the farm and that’s just the way it is.

Even after a week, when he’s still looking at print-outs and repeating the same unconvincing sales pitches, Dwight knows that the strength of character required to achieve such aims is not present and he will no doubt lose interest.

Eyes focused on the horizon go unnoticed, and when he hears “I’m leaving”, it is really just white noise. The Schrute family has always been here and it will always be here. Leaving would be like deciding to farm potatoes, and who needs potatoes? Not this planet.

But the farm is quiet now, and sometimes he gets phone calls, and it turns out that Mose is working at Staples. (Traitor.) And he doesn’t have a beard anymore, which is weird. But he doesn’t miss him because…whatever...and he doesn’t need anybody.