She knew exactly where they were. Inside the blue box, under her favorite sweater, in the bottom drawer of her dresser. She knew where they were and she knew they were going to stay there. After several more nights of nagging conversations between her id and super-ego, Marsha had decided that right or wrong, she had to hold on to those letters. She wasn't sure why she was keeping them, and as a concession to her conscience she tried to reread them as infrequently as possible. Which didn't really matter since she had most of them memorized by now. And she still felt guilty whenever she caught herself trying to picture what Karen looked like or imagining when and where Jim had confessed his feelings for Pam, but truth be told she just couldn't help herself.

It had been years since she'd been this excited about the idea of two people being in love. It wasn't like she didn't believe in love. She just hadn't met many people who had managed to find it. Once, a long time ago, she had thought that she knew what it looked like, but now those thoughts were blurry and faded. Pam and Jim, though, were in clear focus.

Wednesday night's scheduled cleaning at Dunder-Mifflin didn't help anything. Luckily she wasn't yet arousing any suspicion among the rest of the crew, but it was probably only a matter of time before they figured out that she was always mysteriously the first one into the Dunder-Mifflin office.

As she headed to the reception desk she tried to keep her anticipation to a minimum. After all, there was just something pathetic in the idea of a grown woman being excited about going through someone else's trash! She checked Pam's can and happily slipped a letter into her pocket. Then, since no one else was upstairs yet she went over to the desk she was sure was Jim's. Nothing about it was out of the ordinary, except for being a little more devoid of personality than some of the others in the office.

She glanced at a few papers he'd left on top. More than anything she wanted to open the drawers and see if she could come up with any clues as to whether or not he still had feelings for Pam, or to see if perhaps he had a picture of himself, or of Karen. But sneaking letters out of a person's garbage was one thing, and rifling through a closed drawer was another. Going through private property wasn't a line Marsha was willing to cross just yet, no matter how sorely she was tempted. She reached down to grab Jim's trash bag and add it to the one from Pam's desk that she still had in her hand. That's when it hit her. Maybe, just maybe, Jim had left a clue in his trash just like Pam had been doing! She quickly lifted the bag up to get a better look, and that's when the door opened.

"Marsha? What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing, I...uh...um... I just thought I saw something. But I didn't. So I'm gonna go get rid of this now."

"Okay." Henni smiled a little at the guilty look on Marsha's face. "Whatever," she muttered as Marsha passed her on her way to the door. Marsha had been acting a little funny lately, but it seemed like it was a change for the better so as long as it didn't involve anything illegal, and Henni was fairly certain Marsha wasn't that type, she wouldn't be one to interfere.

Marsha managed to make it home without raising any more suspicions. She closed the door behind her, sank into the biggest, oldest, and most comfy chair in her living room and read.

Dear person who makes me laugh harder than anyone in the world,

Dwight just asked me what women like better: sex or chocolate. I told him it depends on the person they're having sex with. And then I ran into the bathroom to throw up at the thought of Dwight having sex. Okay, so I'm kidding about the throwing up part, not that I didn't want to. By the way, I was right about Dwight and Angela!!! I was right and you were wrong! Suck on that Halpert!

Sincerely,

the girl you'd really rather be with (at least according to my mom)

P.S. In case you were wondering, if the guy was you, I'd definitely prefer the sex. Although, sex with chocolate involved also sounds like an appealing option!

Marsha's cheeks were scarlet after reading that P.S. She hadn't expected Pam to be quite so uninhibited, but then she remembered that Pam had surely convinced herself that no one would ever be reading what she'd written. Marsha paused for a moment reflecting on the few times in her life when she could have actually written a letter like that. Then she smiled and took the letter upstairs to add it to her collection.

Saturday yielded three more letters, and Marsha was practically giddy about the prospect of reading them. But once again she was interrupted before she had a chance to check Jim's garbage thoroughly. The only thing she did manage to find were some notes from a sales call that were in his handwriting. Still, the three letters in her pocket kept her from feeling discouraged and the rest of her shift seemed to fly by. It was a quarter to four by the time she settled herself into her favorite chair. She tried to calm down so that she could fully savor the experience of reading the letters, but those vivid blue, curlicued words were calling to her, and she just couldn't resist. She was about to open one when she realized that she had no way of knowing which of the three letters had been written first. So she decided to mix them up and then pick one at random. Closing her eyes, she dropped the papers in her lap and felt around for one. When she opened them again the smallest of the three letters was in her hands.

Jim,

It's 4:08 on Friday afternoon. Time has effectively died. But it's a slow, painful, agonizing death. I'm so bored of everything. Solitaire, Su Doku, nothing sounds appealing. All I can do is stare at your neck. But not in a creepy vampire way, because that's not what I meant. The office is unusually quiet. People have been slipping out all afternoon. Kelly and Ryan left a few minutes ago so now it's even more quiet. but I don't really mind. When it's quiet it lets me think.

Nothing too special in this letter, but there were still two more to go, Marsha thought. With a full grin on her face at her own silliness, she set that letter on the table next to her and picked up the other two. Again she closed her eyes, dropped them in her lap and then grabbed the first one she touched.

Hey Jim,

I really should stop doing this at some point and just talk to you instead. Because I want to tell you something. I don't know why I don't just tell you now. It's you. I trust you. I never used to have a problem talking to you, even about stuff that I wouldn't have bothered anyone else with. But the thing is, except for you, I've never been good at talking to people about really important things. Mostly because I've never really felt like I had anything important to talk about. Or maybe I've just never had someone who I knew really, really cared about what I was saying. It's probably a little of both, to be honest. Anyway, the point is I don't know how to, I mean, I can't just say things. I could never in a million years do what you did. I just...

This is crazy. I can't even say it in a letter that I know you'll never read. Okay fine. I'm just gonna write it out without thinking about it. Because I have thought about. A lot. Enough that I know it's true. So now I can just say it without thinking right? Okay here I go.

I Love You.

It's taken me about ten minutes of sheer stubbornness not to cross that out. But deep down I don't want to. I don't want to keep denying it to myself. So there it is. And someday, maybe, I'll be able to say it to you for real. But for now this is almost

Marsha turned over the page, but there was nothing more. She took a moment to reread the letter she was holding. Suddenly everything seemed more serious. She had known before that Pam had feelings for Jim, but Pam hadn't been clear on how deep those feelings were until now. She sat for almost a full minute thinking about what she had just read. This wasn't right. She didn't know these people and she didn't know anything, really, about their circumstances or what had happened between them, but she knew that loving someone, as Pam had just admitted she loved Jim, wasn't something you could take lightly.

It wasn't right. And it also wasn't fair. Love like that wasn't meant to be wasted. What was Pam doing? Why had Jim moved on? None of this made any sense. With a puzzled expression Marsha opened the last letter.

Hi Jim,

I'm in an incredibly good mood today and if Karen weren't here I would definitely be telling you why, so instead I'll just write about it here. It's nothing big, but it really made my day. See yesterday I had my art class and I've been working on this landscape that just hasn't felt right for some reason, so instead of doing that I started on something new. I was thinking about you and work and the way you told me I should go for that internship in graphic design that Jan mentioned once, but that Roy thought I shouldn't bother with. I guess I just couldn't stop thinking about that, and as I was thinking I started sketching the outside of our office.

I put in the parking lot and everything. I hadn't really thought much about it before, but that parking lot has a lot of memories attached to it. Remember last year when we spent almost the whole day out there because of the fire? And remember when Dwight ran into the pole trying to go pick up Michael after he "injured" himself? Of course, my favorite memory of all is still standing under the stars in a fancy dress with a huge smile on my face right before you told me you loved me. Jim, if you had just warned me somehow, I don't know what I would've done, but I definitely was not expecting you to

This letter ended abruptly too and Marsha could picture Pam suddenly balling it up and tossing it into the trash either in frustration or because someone was approaching her desk. She leaned back in her chair again thinking about what she would do if she was in Pam's situation. These poor people, she thought. They all seemed so trapped. Karen was with Jim, but did she know that he was once in love with Pam, and that Pam loves him now? And of course Jim had no way of knowing that Pam was now in love with him, but she wondered what he would do if he found out. Her forehead wrinkled a little and she closed her eyes to concentrate, it really wasn't any of her business, but there had to be something she could do! She just didn't want any of them to end up like her. All alone in the middle of the night.

She was still sitting in her chair fast asleep with the lamp on and that last letter in her hand when the sun rose a few hours later.