She had trouble sleeping that night. She turned off the lights, lay in bed and then re-hashed everything that had happened over the past four years. All night she tossed and turned and wondered if she had made the right decision. After a few moments, she would get hot, and push the sheets to the bottom of the bed until she could feel the air on her legs, and then would pull the sheets and the comforter up to her neck to fight off the chill of the air conditioner. She would snuggle under the blanket for a few moments - finally calm - and then start to feel hot, itchy, and doubtful again. It was a cycle: lather, rinse, repeat.
On Friday, she woke up at her regular time feeling groggy and lost. She decided that since it was only May, she couldn't use her last sick-day-- not yet. Her heart fell when she showed up for work and discovered that he had called in sick. To Toby. And had passed along the message that he would be transferring to the Stamford starting in two weeks from Monday. It was a very long day.
On the second night of kicking around the bed, she thought she woke him up. She may have kicked him accidentally, but she didn't care so much anymore, and he wasn't saying anything, so she ignored him. After the next round of pushing around the sheets, he grunted, and then after pulling the blankets up twice more, he groaned, "What the fuck, Pam? Go to sleep." He rolled over and was snoring within minutes. She left the bed, taking a pillow and an extra blanket, and went to the couch. Thursday night played in her head over and over again as she sat curled in the corner of the couch. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she did remember waking up suddenly and seeing the VCR blinking 3:48. She took her pillow and slunk back to bed, and fell asleep for what seemed like hours.
She woke up to the sound of pounding on the walls and blaring music. As she walked out of their bedroom with the comforter wrapped around her, she saw him hammering nails to hang speakers in their living room.
"Isn't it great? Darryl gave me the idea the other night.” The radio was tuned to his favorite station – hard rock played at maximum volume. He yelled over the music, “Now when we play Madden, it'll be like we're IN THE GAME!" She wrinkled her forehead at him and slunk back into bed, but she couldn't fall asleep. She stayed in their room all day, and he only came in to see if she wanted pizza when his buddies had come over to check out the new setup.
When he crawled into bed many hours later, she was still awake. Her eyes were fixed open as she tried to take in everything that was happening: Jim had confessed he loved her; she had rejected him. Jim had kissed her; she had rejected him again. Jim had kissed her, and she was getting married. Jim had kissed her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to be engaged anymore. Jim had kissed her, and even though she loved him too, she had messed everything up. And now, Jim was gone. She kept replaying the scene in her head when he came into the office, and it was wonderful, heartbreaking, and awful, all at the same time.
She glanced at the clock and it was now 1:30. Her eyes were heavy, but her mind still raced. She climbed out of bed and went to the living room again. She hadn't eaten anything all day, but she wasn't hungry. She poured herself a glass of juice and stared at it for what seemed like hours. When she finally began sipping it, she decided she needed to write him a letter. That was it - she would write and explain everything. She began writing frantically, trying to explain why she was the way she was.
She wrote about high school - about being a quiet girl who liked art, who wasn't very popular. About how Roy was a football player, how he had been required to take at least the one art class, and how that was where they met. Where, for the first time in real life, she felt special. She felt like Cinderella, and Roy was good to her. And how scared she was when he graduated and went off to college, how he might forget her. How both relieved and disappointed she was when he failed out after one semester and came back to Scranton and started at Dunder-Mifflin. How when she graduated she lasted a little longer - two years, but only because she went to a local community college like Roy wanted, and not to art school further away. How the classes bored her, how the other students ignored her, and how she had decided she would just be happy to take any job she could get.
How she started working at Dunder-Mifflin in the sales office. And how she had met Jim. How she and Jim immediately clicked. How he had taken her out for lunch at the end of her first week, and how it kind of felt like a date, but he had pulled away when he learned she was engaged. How she had tried to grow their friendship back to the closeness she had never felt with someone after only a week. How a year later, the cameras showed up, and how awkward it had felt at first to have her interactions with Jim recorded. How she knew there wasn't anything to hide - not on her part, at least - but how she kept wondering about Jim. How she wanted so much for him, but didn't have the heart to tell him. About all the missed moments in the past year - moments that could have changed things, but didn't.
How Roy had grown lazy in their relationship since they got engaged, how they didn't have sex as often, how she was frustrated with the way that he never cleaned up and left everything lying around the house for her to deal with. How he always seemed to barge in at those moments when she was having the most fun and ruin things. And how... she was thinking of leaving him. She didn't mention kissing Jim. She didn't mention rejecting him twice in one night. Roy had been in her life for so long, and even though they didn't quite work as a couple anymore, she couldn't see how to end it. This was all the why’s behind the "I can't."
She put the pen down and took a deep breath. She was finally tired, but she couldn't believe she'd written so much in such a short period of time. Maybe I should add ‘Dear Jim’ at the top, she thought, but decided against it in the end. She wasn't planning on sending it anyways, so why have that temptation? She decided to burn it, but she put her head on her pillow and decided to rest her eyes for just a moment.
When she woke up, she heard papers rustling. She lifted her head quickly, and she saw him, sitting and reading. His brow was furrowed and he looked upset. When he looked up from the papers, his face changed. He looked like he wanted to yell at her but he didn't – she could tell that he was just seething . He took a deep breath through his nose and stood up. He threw the papers at her and stormed into their bedroom. She could hear him tearing through the dresser and throwing things on the bed.
She sat for a moment, bewildered. He read it, she thought, Roy read my unsendable letter for Jim, and now he’s was angry. And he’s leaving. When she had first met him, she had thought he'd be the kind who would get enraged and just explode with yelling, but he turned out to be very quiet when he got mad. And right now he was quieter than she had ever known him to be.
She walked slowly up to the doorway and leaned against the jamb.
He threw some more clothes in a duffle, before lifting his head to glower at her. "What was that?" He walked over to her quickly, so close she could feel the heat of his breath on the tip of her nose. "I thought you were finally happy. I set a date, and what do I get?" He threw his hands in the air and started walking away before turning quickly around. "You want to leave me? You?" He turned around again and ran his fingers through his hair. "I have to go. I don't know how long I'll be gone." He walked back to the bed and zipped up the bag before walking back toward her. He leaned down as if to kiss her but paused, then pulled back. "I'll call you." She kept staring vacantly into their bedroom as she heard the door slam on his way out.
Pam bit her lip, walked slowly back to the couch and gathered up her letter. She held it to her chest and for the first time in four days, she cried. She wasn't sure why she was crying, but it felt good to feel SOMETHING instead of just empty and alone.
Later, Pam would put the letter in a drawer. Someday, she would send it. But not now. Not before she figured out how that letter would end.
