You could be happy and I won't know

Pam tried hard not to think about him in Stamford. Wearing brand new suits, sitting at a brand new desk, laughing with brand new people. She tried to suppress the image of him being happy ....somewhere other than here. Because it hurt her to think that he was happy, happy while she was miserable, happy without her.

But as much as it hurt, she wished it for him. She prayed and hoped that he could find the happiness that she couldn’t give him. But she could not picture it. Picturing him smiling without her, toward a prettier, available new girl, it ripped her heart to shreds.

Still, somehow, she hoped, for his sake, that he could be happy. Sadly, unfortunately, heartbreakingly, the only way for that to happen, she forced herself to face, was if he’d fallen out of love with her.

But you weren't happy the day I watched you go

Jim had watched her walk away from him more times than he could remember. Always away from him, and toward Roy. He’d memorized every curl on the back of her head because of all those times, how the sun shone against each reddish strand, how wisps of hair waved in the breeze.

She’d walked away with Roy after that stupid alliance he’d made with Dwight. She walked away with Roy after that stupid basketball game he’d rocked in. She went home with Roy, she made love to Roy, she was going to spend her life with Roy.

Until, she wasn’t.

He’d heard about the cancelled wedding from Michael, casually, a remark that might not have even gone noticed, a moment he’d wanted for so long and thought would never happen. But it had, it did, and somehow it changed absolutely nothing. Pam was still not his, and he had forced himself to accept that she never, ever would be.

And all the things that I wished I had not said

She couldn’t contain the happiness that Jim had come back.

She couldn’t contain the sadness that Jim hadn’t come back for her.

In fact, as she witnessed a young, beautiful woman’s hand intimately scratch his back, she realized he’d come back with someone else. She couldn’t tell if he was happy, or not. He seemed fine, content, and most definitely over her.

As she climbed into her car, Pam wanted to bite her tongue. She remembered all those times the words escaping her lips had hurt him. Inadvertently, unintentionally, and yet irrevocably. She pushed him to take the job in Maryland on Halloween, she reminded him that swaying wasn’t dancing after their non first date, she screamed that she was fine with her choices after she’d turned down the graphic internship, she confided on the Booze Cruise that sometimes she just didn’t get Roy, she stood in the parking lot and told him that he could do whatever he wanted.

She said that they were friends and that they always would be and blamed herself for the reason that they weren’t so much more.

Are played in loops 'till it's madness in my head

As Jim drove to meet Karen, his heart beat rapidly against his chest. He’d done it. He told her. And he should have been happy or relieved or free, but he wasn’t. Because he’d walked back into Dunder Mifflin Scranton, right into her arms, and directly into her heart.

No matter how hard he’d fought, ignored, denied, refuted, hated it, she still had him. He still fully belonged to her. That’s why he told her in the parking lot about Karen. Because he wanted to break the hold she had on him, wanted to prove that he had moved on, wanted to show himself that Pamela Beesly was nothing more than his friend.

But for reasons he could not fathom, as the distance between him and Karen shortened and grew between him and Pam, he remembered when he’d cruelly joked that he hadn’t been the one to leave her at a hockey game after their "first date", he asked her if she wanted to be a receptionist here always, he informed her that he was leaving two days before her wedding, he admitted that he’d filed the complaint with Toby about her planning her wedding, he confessed that he was in love with her, he told her that he was sorta seeing someone.

But the truth, the truth would always be, that the only person he saw was the only person he could never have.

Is it too late to remind you how we were

When Pam handed him the red folder that perfectly matched her new red turtleneck, for a moment, a second, it felt normal and good. It felt like it used to, he smiled like he once did at her. But as quickly as that all-too-glorious moment had happened, it disappeared. His smile faded, he slipped the folder back in her hands, and he walked away.

And just like that, she realized, it was over. He had told her he loved her, she told him she couldn’t, and now it was all over. There was no friendship, no foundation, nothing left but the mess she’d left behind.

She watched silently as he exchanged gifts with his girlfriend, felt his eyes watch her as she exchanged gifts with her former fiancee. But all she wanted, the best Christmas present she could ever ask for would be to have her best friend back.

And to remind him, to remind herself, what she’d given up simply by saying I can’t.

But not our last days of silence, screaming, blur

Jim tried to look at her and not see the woman he loved so dearly. But he couldn’t. So, instead, he forced himself to not look at all. He was thankful that his new desk placed his back to her, forcing his eyes forward and not back. He did not want to go back anymore than he already had.

But old habits die hard. When Karen was mad that he didn’t want her to move a few houses down, he found himself confiding in Pam, as a friend, as a partner, as a woman he trusted. Not surprisingly, she gave the advice soundly, logically, indifferently. And he realized, more than ever before, that Pam did not care that he was with Karen, Pam did not care that he had moved on, Pam didn’t care if he married Karen, Pam wasn’t and would never be in love with him.

And then, to keep his mind from going over the edge and his soul from shattering even more, he shut her out of his life and hoped that soon enough she’d be out of his heart as well.

Most of what I remember makes me sure

Pam had almost forgotten what it was like to be on his side. But once complete aggravation had gotten the best of them, and he walked over to her desk, his eyes pleading with her, she couldn’t refuse his request to pull a prank on Andy. As much fun as the cell phone/big tune prank turned out to be, it was being near him again, laughing in secret, being the only two people in the world...it was that she had missed.

And the easiness, the simplicity that had been Jim and Pam, could be again. She told herself that they could be happy, separately and together. They could find happiness yet again. She added up three years of memories, three years of laughs and pranks and jokes and smiles and friendship. She took that and compared it to a few months of awkwardness, one stolen kiss and a sinlge heart-wrenching confession.

She told herself, convinced herself that this prank was the first of many and that they were back on the road to recovery and rekindling. And that one day, soon, she would be able to take back the I can’t and make it an I could.

Jim didn’t know how she did it, how Pamela Beesley could worm her way straight back into his half-broken heart and crush whatever little there was left. But she did. She could. She had.

They’d laughed together, joking about her famous dance moves. He caught her staring at him on the dance floor with Karen, jealousy and pain in her eyes. And that irrepressible hope seeped in, reminding him that there might always be a chance between them. Until he felt like someone had run him over with a bulldozer as he watched her walk out of the wedding, hand in hand, with Roy.

He hated himself at first, punishing himself that his first instinct was to chase after them and drag her away. Then he hated Roy, for using her vulnerability about a wedding that should have been hers and Roy’s against her. But in the end, he tried to hate her. Hate her for not seeing that Roy would never be worth it, and that he would always, always love her more.

But hate was never enough. It never satisfied him and inevitably, he accepted his fate and watched her walk away one last time.

You could be happy, I hope you are

Pam stood in front of her art exhibit, nerves shaking her inside. This was the first time she was stepping out into the world, gathering up at least a little bit of courage to show the world a piece of her. Because she’d been hiding for entirely too long. In the shadows, behind Roy, in insecurity and inadequacy.

But no more. She posted flyers, she hung her art proudly, she waited and waited. Roy briefly stopped by, and she was happy he made an effort. An effort, at least, was something to hang onto. Oscar and Gil came by, but she found herself hiding again, embarrassed and shunned by harsh words. Michael even showed up, his eyes were the only ones that lit up with pride.

Jim hadn’t come, hadn’t congratulated her, or wished her luck, or had valued their friendship enough to be here on her big night. He was off, being happy, with Karen, and she...she was here, at her art show, disappointed that she’d put herself out there only to find that nobody in the world seemed to care about her.

Her eyes searched her illustrations as her heart hoped that he was happy even though she wasn’t and wondered if she ever would be again.

You made me happier than I'd been by far

Jim should be happy, he realized. He was with Karen, Pam and Roy were over...yet again. His life was somehow on track. But he wasn’t, didn’t know how to be. She apologized left and right for Roy trying to fist fight with him in the middle of office, but her words meant nothing anymore. She’d broken his spirit by walking out of the wedding with Roy and he hadn’t forgiven her for it.

It should matter that she wasn’t with Roy now, and that she obviously told her former fiancee something about the two of them to elicit such a response from Roy. But it didn’t. He only wanted it to all be over. He wanted to move forward, with his new, drama-free, easygoing girlfriend. He wanted to stop loving her and stop wanting her to love him back.

He tried to remember the last time he was happy, really, truly, unequivocally happy, and though he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, he knew Pam must have been there, beside him, smiling at him, laughing.

He was only happy with her. And he’d succumb to the fact that he’d never have her, and now he had to face that that meant that he’d never find that happiness again.

Pam reveled in the fact that he stood so close to her, that as they dealt with Michael on his latest stupid stunt, he’d been beside her the entire time. It wasn’t what it used to be, she knew it might never be, but it was something, a step forward instead of that feeling that they were frozen in this awful moment forever.

They made bets, with the whole office, about the whole office. Creed eating a potato, Michael jumping off the building, how many jellybeans in a dish on Pam’s desk. She liked that Jim had won that bet, liked even more that Kevin had not so subtlely pointed out that Jim had spent hours upon hours at her desk.

But he didn’t spend hours there anymore. He hardly looked at her, laughed with her. Their friendship had somehow deteriorated. But now, with this tiny tease of games and jokes, Pam realized how badly she missed him, this, them. And she vowed to herself that she’d find a way, that she wouldn’t hide or run, and that she’d try her hardest to make Jim a part of her life again.

Even if she had to break her own heart to do it.

And for the tiniest moment it's all not true

Jim was planning a romantic night with Karen for their six month anniversary. Dinner, dancing, candlelight, ease, and love. Yes, he had become more determined than ever to fall head over heels in love with Karen. And she was almost perfect. Gorgeous, intelligent, witty, sexy. The pro list went on and on and on. There was only a single con. One life-altering, unshakeable, world-shattering con.

She wasn’t Pam. She never would be.

And sitting in the middle of the ladies bathroom with Toby, Ryan, and Kevin, he kept up his content facade and told himself that if he pretended to be happy long enough that eventually he would believe his own lie. In those other moments, in that silence, he would imagine his six year anniversary with Pam. They were happy, and in love, and forever.

But it was all just a dream. This was his life now, and he was more determined than ever to make it work, to make it right, to make it last. And if he did that, then maybe, one day, far far in the future, he wouldn’t want for things he could never have anymore.

Do the things that you always wanted to
Without me there to hold you back, don't think, just do

While the sole of Pam’s feet really hurt her, her heart felt healed. She’d said it. Everything she’d wanted to say, to him, just once, bad timing at all. She told him that she called off her wedding for him, that she missed having fun with him, that nothing had mattered before she met him. He had only sat there, bewildered, in shock and terror, and silence. And she was the one to walk away this time, proud, smiling, and happy.

As she stood at the water’s edge, she felt him there long before she saw him. He looked at her sadly, telling her that for as long as he’d been back from Stamford he hadn’t actually come back yet. Come back, she wanted to beg, come back to me, come back home. But she didn’t. Her bravery could only go so far. Instead, she wished for it. Wished that he would. Wished that she could.

And she found...that she was too late.

He told her that he wanted it to make it work with Karen, that he was trying to be happy, that life was taking him toward Corporate now. She only stood there, broken, devastated, and finally she realized....finally she saw that the best way to love him....was to let him go. To let him be happy, without her, with Karen, in New York.

She embraced him briefly, his scent filling her senses for the last time. They walked away together, heads down, bond broken. And she wished again, wished that she could be the one brave enough to walk away this time, to love him from afar.

She got back on the bus, alone and terrified, forced to watch her past sit beside his new future, and know, know that she was the sole person responsible for the way her life had turned out.

Later that night, quiet in her bed, she cried herself to sleep. And the next morning, she dried her tears, went to work, and told herself that being his friend would have to be enough.

More than anything I want to see you, girl

Jim was driving faster than he should. He realized that. But the overwhelming urge to see her, to tell her that he’d been a fool, to remind her what they were and could be, to beg her to forgive him for being cold and pushing her away, to kiss her and call her his own, to confess that there wasn’t ever a moment that he hadn’t been madly in love with her.

He’d met Karen after his interview. He told her that he’d taken his name out of consideration, that Scranton was the only place that felt like home. She told him that she was disappointed and confused, but she loved him nonetheless, respected his decision, hoped that they could still build a life together.

Then, he broke her heart. He hadn’t meant to do it, never sought to break someone as he’d been broken. But he couldn’t stop it now. He mumbled something about Office Olympics, pink sweaters, mixed berry yogurt, and french onion chips. He told his girlfriend that no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t give her his heart.

His voice cracked when he told her that his heart belonged to someone else.

He drove faster now, speeding, stuck in his thoughts, wondering why it was that a silly note and a simple question were the driving force that had led him to the stunning realization that he wasn’t ready to not love Pam. He’d rather be miserable and pining away for a woman he loved and could never have, then be content and safe with a woman he could have and never love.

He burst through the office door, his heart dropping when her desk was empty. He turned to Dwight, demanding to know where Pam was, and watched as the man pointed into the conference room.

He rushed to the door, opening it, charging through, realizing only then that there was a camera crew poised and ready. Then, he felt entirely stupid, comprehending that he hadn’t actually planned on what the hell to say to her the entire trip here.

Somehow though, it didn’t matter. She looked at him like she thought she was never going to see him again, relieved, shocked, and glad. And suddenly all the time and distance and hurt between them melted away.

He asked her on a date, she said yes, and it felt easy, right, good, simple. He was happy.

Yes, Jim Halpert realized that he could most definitely be happy. Here, in Scranton, sitting at his old desk, with his Pam, forever and ever.

Then, he told himself that they would be happy.