Although he'd probably never tell anyone, Jim wished on stars.

He wasn't sure when he started. It was most likely centered around something in a Disney film he'd seen as a kid. But whatever the reason, Jim would always look to the sky and recite to himself the poem he'd once heard the the first star he saw. "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, please grant this wish tonight." Then he would make the first wish that came to his mind.

Needless to say, he had the same wish every night for about three years at one time.

The night of the office's casino party, Jim made one last wish on a star as he waited for Pam to finish talking to Roy.

I wish everything will work out right.

When everything happened wrong, Jim stopped wishing on stars for a while. In Stamford, he would look up at the stars and frown because everything had worked out completely wrong.

Back in Scranton things got worse, and Jim found himself wishing on stars again. His wish now wasn't specific, it was just a general need.

I wish everything will get better.

In New York, Jim noticed he could see no stars. Everything was too bright. It was silly, but because he was interviewing for a promotion, with Karen, in a huge city, Jim felt he needed to wish on a star more than ever. On the balcony from his hotel room, Jim scanned the sky trying to find a star. When there wasn't one, he closed his eyes and imagined a field of stars to be wished on.

I wish...I wish...I wish I can have the courage to get what I want.

The next day, Jim felt new and strong. He did what he should have done ages ago. And it worked out. Finally.

From then on, Jim wished on stars again. He liked to think that he and Pam's relationship was written in the stars, like Romeo and Juliet, but without the feuding families and suicide.

With his renewed strength in the stars, Jim made one last wish as he walked up to Pam's door that night.

I wish for happiness for me and Pam. Together.