"Well?" Karen prompted.

"Um, Karen-I, uh-I don't know what to say."

"Are you seeing Pam?" she asked, point-blank.

"What? No! No, no, no, definitely not."

"But you're in love with her," she stated. "You're writing her letters addressed to your dream girl? What is...going on? And-who's Marsha Platz?"

"Just, just-let me explain. I swear I didn't know..." Jim sighed in frustration. He hadn't anticipated that Pam's letters would be so open, and now he was feeling like he had done something wrong, when really all he'd been trying to do was re-connect with his best friend.

"Okay, fine," she said tersely. "Explain."

"I... I came into work one day," Jim began. "This was about two weeks ago, and there was this envelope on my desk with a note from a woman I had never met before, named Marsha. She said that she works on the cleaning crew, and that she'd been finding letters addressed to me from Pam, and she wanted to know if I was interested in seeing them. She had also left one of Pam's letters in the envelope."

He paused in his narrative, anticipating some sort of reaction from Karen, but all she did was nod cautiously, as if she really was determined to hear him out before she decided how to respond.

"So I met up with her for coffee and we talked about the letters, and then she said if I wanted to see more of Pam's letters I would have to trade her for letters from me to Pam."

Karen's eyebrows rose at this, but she silently gestured to him to continue.

"I wasn't going to do it, but then I thought about these letters that my mom made me write as a little kid..."

Jim went on to explain how he had begun to leave his letters for Marsha, but that he'd had no idea that Marsha would be giving them to Pam. When he finished, Karen seemed to be processing it all, but then she looked up at him with sad eyes and he felt his heart sink a little bit with guilt. He never should have let things get this far.

"So...what now?" Karen asked.

"I can't...I mean, I don't want to keep pretending."

"So that's all this has been for you?" Karen's voice sounded more tired than angry at this point. "You've just been pretending to want to be with me, when really this whole time you've been in love with Pam?"

"No! That's not what I meant, it's just..." He stopped when he noticed the tears that had begun to fall down Karen's face. "Karen, I'm so sorry. I honestly never meant to hurt you."

"Right," Karen huffed indignantly, wiping viciously at her tears.

"Believe me, I-" he tried to continue pleading with her, but Karen stood up and started walking toward the door of his apartment.

"I have to go Jim. I--I never would have thought you were capable of..." she trailed off, as she looked into his eyes for a minute. Her face held a mixture of pain, anger, shock and betrayal. Jim couldn't look away, but he felt physically sick at the thought of what she must be feeling.

"I have to go," she repeated as much to herself as to him.

"Okay," he said, wanting to say something-anything-to make her feel better, but knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do.

"Jim, just don't try to call me or anything, okay? I need some time to myself."

"Of course," he replied as respectfully as he could. "Bye, Karen."

"Good-bye, Jim."

-----

Jim spent Saturday morning alternating between rereading Pam's letters and feeling guilty about what had happened with Karen. He still couldn't figure out how he was supposed to proceed with Pam, but he knew for a fact that he couldn't keep denying what he had felt for her for so long. But as much as he wanted to rush over and tell Pam everything, he wasn't sure that was the best approach to take.

First of all, Pam didn't know for sure that it was him sending her the dream girl letters. Sure she had her suspicions, but it was highly possible she still didn't know for sure that they were coming from him--albeit indirectly and without his knowledge. And if she didn't know they were from him, it would probably be a complete shock to her to have him show up unannounced to declare his love (again).

Second, there was still the very real possibility that Karen would somehow interfere or make a scene, so he thought it might be best to wait until things were settled between them before he made a move on Pam. Besides, he had honestly liked Karen a lot, and didn't want to hurt her even more by getting publicly involved with Pam while she was around. Jim didn't know whether she'd stay in Scranton or leave, but either way-he knew it was going to be awkward if he tried to pursue Pam right now.

Third, Pam was probably going to be more than a little upset if she realized he had actually seen all of the letters she'd been writing to him. But maybe if he could convince her first that he returned her feelings, she wouldn't be quite as angry about it. The last thing he wanted to do was start off their relationship-if they made it to the relationship point-with a fight about how he should have just returned all her letters without reading them.

And finally, he'd waited years for this opportunity-to finally have confirmation of Pam's feelings. After last May, he had been fairly confident that it would never come. So now that it had and he could finally pursue Pam, he wanted to make it perfect. Besides, he thought, he'd waited so long that at this point a few more days wouldn't make much difference.

He'd spent his whole day in a state of limbo, but even though he still didn't know exactly how the next few days were going to turn out, he knew there was at least one thing he could do right now to be a little closer to Pam.

He opened the door to the office with the key Michael had given him when he had come back to Scranton. It was strange to see the office so quiet in the middle of the day. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in on a Saturday. He walked over to Pam's desk and paused for a minute sliding his arms over the counter. So much had changed for him in the relatively few hours since he had been here last. He tried to process it all, but being here just seemed to make it all seem unreal.

He turned to survey the rest of the office. His desk seemed much closer to hers with no one else around, strangely. It struck him as ironic that he and Pam had been so physically close to each other for so long, and still hadn't been able to be close in the ways that really mattered.

After a few more minutes, he was starting to feel a little silly about just standing there, so he went around Pam's desk to the garbage can underneath and rifled through it until he was sure he'd checked every piece of paper. There were two letters in it from Pam.

The first was sweet and soothing. Pam had noticed that he had been acting funny, and in her letter, she offered to do anything she could to make him feel better. Jim sighed, rather than focus on the things he couldn't have yet, he decided to read the second letter.

My Dear Jim,

I want you. I know that might sound a little dirty, but today I just can't help it. I don't think you have any idea how much I'm in love with your arms and your lips and your eyes and your hair. I mean, seriously? Do you know how attractive you are?

Okay, I'll stop. I'd never tell you this in real life, of course. I wouldn't want you to get a big head. But yeah, I really, really want you. All the time. Every day. Right now, in fact.

Anyway, I wish I had time to write more, but I think Dwight's starting to suspect something. He keeps coming over here to ask if he's gotten any new messages. Probably part of his new crackdown on worker efficiency. (Imagine me rolling my eyes.)

Jim, I wish I could tell you that I want you and that I love you, that I need you, but since I can't quite yet, I'll just keep writing this way.

Love always,

Pam

P.S. and your chin, and your legs, and your chest, and your teeth, and your smile, and your laugh, and the way your eyebrows shoot up when you look at Dwight... basically I love everything about you.

Jim's forehead hit Pam's desk. This was just cruel. More than anything, he wanted to drive over to her apartment right now and tease her about loving his eyebrows. With a resigned sigh, he headed back downstairs to his car. At least he knew it wouldn't be too much longer before he could show Pam just how much he wanted her too.

-----

When he got back to his apartment later that evening, he was greeted by a box on his doorstep and piece of paper stuck in the door. He recognized Karen's clean, fluid handwriting, and for just a second it struck him how different hers was from Pam's. The difference was especially noticeable since he'd spent so much time over the last twenty-four hours poring over Pam's letters.

Jim,

I would appreciate it if you wouldn't talk to me this week. I'll be leaving Friday morning, so until then could you please try not to humiliate me in front of the entire office? Not that I really care what you Scranton-branch folks think of me, but I'd rather not make a big deal out of this. Please, just wait to throw yourself on Pam until after I leave, okay? I think that's the least you can do.

There's a lot more I want to say to you, but honestly you're just not worth it to me.

Karen

He opened up the box to find a few of his things that he had left at Karen's. Considering how long they had been together, it occurred to him that there wasn't much in there. He glanced through it quickly, feeling sorry for Karen. He wished he could've been there for her in the way she deserved, but he realized now that even without Pam, she wouldn't have been the right girl for him. Maybe it was better for everyone that they hadn't ever been as close as he knew she had wanted them to be.

-----

On Monday morning, Pam began her day early. Her weekend had been nice, but a little lonely, and sad as it was, she found herself craving company even from the people in her office. And she also wondered if there would be another letter today.

There wasn't anything on her desk when she arrived, and the morning progressed as normally as any morning involving Michael ever could. By two-thirty, she had a 15-game winning streak on FreeCell, and nothing left to do for the day, except answer the phone.

She absently reached into the drawer where she kept the notebook and pen she used to write to Jim, eyes still trained on her monitor, but as she did so, her hand felt a piece of loose paper. She looked down to find another letter.

Pam looked around to make sure no one was coming. When she was satisfied that she wouldn't be bothered, she read it once quickly, and then again, more slowly. If these letters weren't coming from Jim, then she wanted to see if there was any clue in them that would reveal their author--whomever he was.

Dear Dream Girl,

Today I'm turning 20. I'm in college now, and I don't really spend a lot of time thinking about you, but I guess maybe I should, because the really weird thing is that some of my friends are already starting to think about getting married and settling down. A couple of the girls I knew in high school already have kids. It's really scary to think about.

Not that it would be scary to meet you or anything. It's just that I don't think I'm ready to make that kind of a commitment. Maybe in five or ten years or so. It's not that I don't want to grow up. I remember when I was little my dad always used to talk about "someday when you become a husband and a father," and I remember thinking that it all sounded great, but I just don't think I'm ready for that yet.

What about you? Are you thinking about me? Or maybe you're younger than I am, so you're still in high school or something. I hope you're not too much younger, because if you're still in middle school that'd be pretty gross. Okay, now I'm definitely creeped out.

I'll talk to you more next year.

Love,

Your Dream Guy

-----

Tuesday progressed in much the same way, though Pam noticed Jim seemed quite a bit more relaxed than he had on Monday or the week before. She wondered if he had been fighting with Karen last week, and now they had made up. Usually when they made up, though, she could tell by the increase in the number of times their public displays of affection made her want to gag.

That couldn't be it though, because today they seemed even more distant than usual. In fact, when she thought about it at lunch, she couldn't remember seeing them talk to each other all morning. They had both gone out for lunch, but truthfully she couldn't say if they had gone together or separately. She made a mental note to ask Jim about it the next time she got a chance.

When she returned to her desk, she found a piece of paper folded up on her chair. She opened it up and was surprised to see another letter. She had never gotten one two days in a row before.

Dear Girl of My Dreams,

I think I might know who you are this year. Oh, I'm turning 23 by the way. But yeah, I may have actually met you already. That's probably kind of strange to hear from a 23-year-old, but sometimes you just know, you know?

And there's this girl I've been dating for awhile, I won't put her name in here because I wouldn't want to jinx it, but I think you might be her. I haven't exactly gotten that feeling of she's The One, but it's close to that. I mean, she's great. She's funny and smart and really good-looking and she's got all these ideas about what she wants to do with her life after she graduates in a few months. She's really ambitious.

Sometimes I can't believe someone so great wants to be with me as much as I want to be with her. She's just so... great.

I love you, sweetie.

Love,

Your Man

Pam looked around the office for a minute, wondering who in the world had left this for her. Maybe this had all been a mistake, she thought. She wondered if the person delivering the letters had gotten her confused with someone else.

For a wild second she even thought maybe the letters were from Roy, but that wasn't possible. She would have known already if they had been from him. Roy wasn't much of a writer, but she'd be able to tell if he'd written the letters. This definitely wasn't him.

Shaking her head, she reread the letter once more. This was the most puzzling one so far. Why would anyone give her a letter about a girl he fell in love with at 23? The only guy she'd been interested in at 23 was Roy, and she'd already established that these letters weren't from him.

The only logical solution was one she wouldn't even allow herself to consider. Still... "I wouldn't want to jinx it."? That sounded just like him. And she remembered reading in the other letters about basketball and his sisters. It couldn't be. But it had to be. But it couldn't. But...

Pam frowned and focused on the head of brown hair that was visible over the top of her desk. Maybe she was just being stupid again. She shouldn't let herself get her hopes up.