Sighing, she put down her mug and moved her computer mouse. She clicked on her “Favorites” tab and did what she did every Monday.

She was fairly certain that she was certifiable.  Checking the website had now become habit.  Every Monday for the past year she would click on to the bookmarked link that took her to Facebook.  She felt completely juvenile having set up a page in the first place, but her secretary had convinced her, telling her about all the friends she’d reconnected with because of it.

So far, the endeavor had been completely useless. She didn’t even have any “friends” on Facebook.  It felt like she was in high school again, sitting at a table with Roy, listening to football plays while the cheerleaders tried to make forced conversation with her. All the while, she desperately wanted to sit with the art kids, discussing the merits of Bernini.  Yet, despite the obvious uselessness of Facebook, every Monday she continued to log into the website. 

Each week she began in the same way, a methodical process of leading her cursor to the top left corner. And every Monday she would type: jim halpert

There were plenty of Jim Halperts who had accounts with Facebook: one from Atlanta, one from Los Angeles, even one in Canada.  None, though, were from Scranton, Pennsylvania.

If asked, Pam would have denied that she thought of Jim as often as she did.  She doubted that a day went by where she didn’t find herself remembering something about their time together at Dunder-Mifflin. Ridiculous things like jello, winter ski gloves, coffee mugs, yogurt lids, paper clips… they all somehow tortured her in the same way.

There were days when she felt terrible about leaving Dunder-Mifflin as abruptly as she had.  Toward the end, each day had become consistently more stressful and more awkward than the one that preceded it.  It was painful to see Jim every day, ignoring her, barely saying two words to her.  Even more painful was watching him laughing, smiling and joking with someone else, someone new. It constantly reminded her that they were no longer the same friends that they had once been.  Their dynamic had been destroyed by her inability to communicate what she really wanted, to just make him understand.

After she had moved into her sister’s basement, Sara had questioned her about her abrupt move to Buffalo. It was so uncharacteristic of Pam to just leave everything- her job, her apartment, art classes; especially after she had made such strides in leaving Roy before the wedding.  But there she had been, quiet as always, admitting to nothing.

“I just needed a change of scenery,” she had explained with a simple shrug of her shoulders. And that had been the end of it.

Sara knew her sister, and that even if pushed, it was unlikely that she would confess the truth behind her move.  She suspected that her sister had buried whatever hurt or fear that had sent her fleeing to Buffalo, buried.

Now Pam sat, as she did every Monday, oddly relieved that she again had avoided confronting her past.

***

“Dunder-Mifflin, this is Joyce,” chirped a voice from behind the reception desk.

It had taken a while for Jim to not cringe every time the phone rang.  The very greeting that in a distant past had once haunted his dreams was now drowned out by thoughts of sales calls, business deals and the shuffling of paper work.

Years ago, had he been asked how long he’d expect to work at Dunder-Mifflin, he would have given himself no more than a year.  He would have switched jobs in a heartbeat had he put the energy into looking.  But he’d never gotten around to it.  A transfer to Connecticut, a promotion and finally a return to Scranton left him still at Dunder-Mifflin after eight years.  Now in a power position, he often wondered where he went wrong. 

He had at one time hoped that he could return to school, maybe get a degree in recreation and start a sports camp for kids.  Now he was so entrenched in his job and his relationship, he doubted that that goal would ever be realized. 

“Setting up a camp costs money, Jim,” his girlfriend had reminded him.  “And if you go back to school then factor in all the start up costs,” she began to list each on her fingers. “Sports equipment, advertising, location, insurance. How are we supposed to pay for all of it?  We’ve got to be realistic Jim.”

We’ve got to be realistic.

She was right.  He was being selfish and not thinking of the fact that he was no longer free to make choices that would benefit his own pursuits.  He had to think about them now; their future together.  That future brought expenses: a house, car payments, and perhaps even children.  In addition, if he ever mustered up the courage, there would be one very large expense.

He carefully looked around the office to make sure that no one was looking and opened his desk drawer.  Right where he’d left it sat a small blue jeweler’s box.  In it lay the very ring with which he planned to propose. 

Since he’d bought it, he had refused to let it out of his sight. It came with him to work and it went home with him each night.  He supposed that by carrying it around might make him less nervous, might even give him enough strength to just ask. Instead, it just sat in the same box he’d purchased it in.  Whenever she would come over to his house, he stashed it in his sock drawer.  When she wasn’t around he let it sit on his dresser.  It seemed to mock him when he left it out, reminding him that it had been over three years since they’d started dating. 

Get a grip, Halpert, he often thought to himself. God knew he had tried multiple times to find the perfect moment to propose.  Once at the local mini putt, once at the Poconos, and even once at Cooper’s; each time he couldn’t bring himself to just do it. 

Sighing, he closed his desk drawer and turned back to his computer screen.  A rectangular box flashed yellow at the bottom edge.  While he had been busy chastising himself, he had received an instant message.

Karen says:
You’re not going to believe who sent me a friend request!

Jim smiled to himself.  Karen had recently discovered Facebook and had been consistently receiving friend requests from her college classmates.  He marveled at her willingness to reconnect with those she’d lost touch with over the years. 

Creed?

Karen says:
Don’t even joke about that. I might have to gouge my eyes out with my salad fork if that ever happened.

Jim says:
Who?

Dwight!

NO. WAY.  Filippelli: you are a LIAR! That’s too good to be true.

Karen says:
Seriously!  Its great isn’t it?  So I should “friend” him then?

Absolutely.

He heard a stifled laugh from across the room.  He looked up from his computer and grinned.  She really was beautiful when she laughed.

Karen says:

Done.  It’s asking how I know him. What should I say? “We worked together” seems too easy.

What are your options?

Lived together, went to school together, traveled together, related to me, met randomly, hooked up, dated.  That’s about it.

Definitely hooked up.

JIM!!!!

Karen?

I refuse to put that I hooked up with DWIGHT.  That is definitely not a proportionate response.  And if you make me put that you are definitely sleeping on the floor tonight ;-)

Okay.  Fine.  You win.  What about randomly?

Okay….?

You met when you agreed to take the ring, though you didn’t know the way.

Are you kidding, Halpert? He inwardly groaned.  Could you be any more transparent? Take the fucking ring? He’d meant it as a throw away quote from Lord of the Rings and had pressed the enter key before he’d even realized his Freudian slip. The yellow box flashed at the bottom of his screen indicating her reply.  It took every ounce of courage he could muster to click to view it, his heart sitting in the pit of his stomach as he moved his cursor toward it.

Is that some stupid Lord of the Rings quote?  You know I hate that movie.

Jim swallowed hard, his heartbeat beginning to return to its normal pace. He wondered how people ever managed to get married in the first place.  Every time he thought about it his stomach would do somersaults.

Jim says:
Good catch.  You’re on to me.

Karen says:
So when are you going to sign up for a Facebook account? 

Well just knowing that Dwight is on it is enough to convince me, that’s for sure.

LOL

Show me tonight at my place?

You’re on. 

Okay get back to work.  I’d like us to be able to keep our jobs so we can still afford to take our little vacation.

Less than a week!  Back to work…

She made him happy, he certainly admitted that.  There were nights that he couldn’t fall asleep because all he could think about was the next day and when he would see her again.  When he was finally able to admit that he loved her, it had taken him by surprise. He didn’t think it was possible that he could love again. There had been a time, in the distant past, when he was afraid that perhaps he’d permanently shut himself off to love.  Many days he had even supposed that he was doomed to be alone, never to have that feeling again. 

His relationships in the past had been different than his current one with Karen.  She was forthright, she never held back and she certainly was not afraid to speak her mind.  He had admired that about her from the start.  When they’d first met she had seemed like the opposite of Pam and that’s what had initially attracted him to her.  She didn’t tug at her necklace when she was nervous; she was rarely distracted from her work. He hardly ever caught her tucking her hair behind her ears, and he never saw her eyes dart for the floor. She was certainly different than Pam.

When Pam had worked as Dunder-Mifflin’s receptionist his relationship with Karen had been strained.  He was constantly afraid that he would ruin it by doing something stupid like offering to prank Dwight with Pam before even considering Karen.  His feelings for Pam had constantly crept up on him and pushed him to her.  It was a bad habit; of that he was certain. 

He had, for years, known that there was something between him and Pam.  The chemistry was too palpable; he would steal glances at her from his desk, and he would oftentimes catch her doing the same.  The smiles they would share, the jokes they would tell… they just got each other without even having the words to say anything at all.  They were best friends until that night, when he’d finally taken a chance. They could have and should have been more than just best friends. 

But he had gambled and lost. She rebuked his kiss in the end, later dismissed their relationship when he had returned to Scranton and they were never the same.  One day he came in and found that she had quit and left Scranton, altogether. He’d heard through Phyllis that she was living with her sister in New York.  For months he wondered if she’d left because of him.  But he never called to find out, always assuming the worst:  she still didn’t love him, still didn’t return his feelings for her, and still didn’t want to be more than just his friend.

For months after her departure it had hurt to breathe. He had even gone to his doctor who found nothing physically wrong with him. 

Eventually, the pain in his chest dissipated, taking with the feelings he had for Pam- or at least that’s what he’d assumed.