Dear Mr. Halpert,

No. Too formal

Dear Jim,

My name is Marsha Platz and I work on the janitorial crew that cleans your office. I know this might seem a little strange, but I would like to meet you sometime because I have something I'd like to discuss with you that I think you will find very worth your time.

No way. She could not write that. That made her sound like a completely psychotic stalker. Or a hooker. Either way it wasn't going to work. With a grunt of frustration she crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it into the rapidly growing pile on the kitchen floor.

"Okay," she thought to herself. "This is getting ridiculous so this is it. This will be the one. Here's what you're going to do. Write out a whole letter. Leave it alone for a few hours, come back and read it, and if you still think it makes you sound like a crazy person, then you can write a new letter. Got it? Okay. Good." She took a deep breath and started to write.

Dear Jim,

You don't know me, but my name is Marsha Platz and I work on the janitorial crew that cleans Dunder-Mifflin. I have recently come across some things that I think might belong to you. The items are fairly valuable, so I would prefer to meet you in person to make sure that they're really yours. I know this might seem a bit strange, but I hope you won't mind calling me so that we can arrange a time to meet. My number is on the back of the janitorial service's business card that I have enclosed so that you will know I was telling you the truth about my job. Please call soon because this is very important and somewhat time-sensitive.

Sincerely,

Marsha Platz

Three hours later she couldn't find anything seriously wrong with it, so she folded up the piece of lined paper. Then she stuck it, and the business card, in an envelope and headed into work.

Later that night, as she entered the Dunder-Mifflin office her fingertips were already tingling. To calm herself down, she made the now-familiar walk toward Pam's desk and riffled through the papers in her garbage can. She found only one letter--still in the same vivid blue ink as the others. Marsha realized it must have come from one of the pens in the pencil cup on Pam's desk. She fingered the pens as she pictured Pam sitting at this very desk scribbling away. Writing her letters.

Marsha took a seat for a minute in Pam's chair, just to get a better idea of what it was like for Pam. She also felt herself becoming a little shaky. This wasn't like her at all. She wasn't the sort of person who left notes for people she had never met before.

To be honest, it wasn't even really the note that was making her nervous. It was the fact that once she did this there would be no turning back. She would now become a participant in this little melodrama instead of just a passive observer. And she still wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. After all, there was still so much about these people that she didn't know.

Marsha couldn't deny the fact that something had to be done. But she had hoped that she would be able to come up with a plan that kept her own involvement to a minimum. She didn't have the best track record when it came to romance, and she didn't want that to jinx what she hoped that Pam and Jim might have.

She turned to look at the rest of the office. Pam had an interesting view, she thought. You could see almost all the desks from here. But Jim's definitely took up the most space in her line of vision. What would it be like to spend your whole day looking at someone you loved without being able to tell them? Marsha smiled at her own musings. The answer to that last question was quite literally sitting in the palm of her hand.

Ever since finding those first few letters it had become a sort of tradition with her to quickly pocket whatever letters she found in Pam's trash and save them to read later at home. She liked it that way because it gave her something to look forward to. But maybe for one night it was time to break that tradition. She turned over the piece of paper and read:

Dear Jim,

I have this huge grin on my face. I can't stop smiling. I would tell you why but it's so stupid. So I'll just write it here instead. See, I had this crazy dream right before I woke up this morning. Ryan was in it and he was telling me how he was secretly in love with Meredith because of the way her skin smells like barbecued ribs in the afternoon, and then Toby was there but his hair was bright pink and... okay I'd better stop thinking about it because now I'm giggling and you're starting to give me this weird look and I can see Michael about to come out of his office to ask me what's going on. On the other hand, maybe I should tell you. You look like you could use a laugh today. I'll tell you at lunch. Unless you're eating with Karen.

Which reminds me: Karen. Jim? Why did it have to be Karen? Anyone else I could have dealt with somehow but Karen's so normal and nice and I feel like she's way better than I am in some ways. When you were dating Katy I know now that I was jealous, but I guess I never really took that seriously because I just couldn't see you being serious about her. I just hate that Karen is such a cool person, because if she wasn't I could just loathe her without feeling bad about it, but as it is...

Sorry. I'm done whining about your girlfriend now. Besides, I'd rather talk about you. You and me. Me and you. Us. Mr and Mrs. Jim and Pam Halpert. Whoa! Sorry. Not sure where that came from. Actually, hold on a sec. Pam Halpert. Okay, I just had to try it one more time. But I'm seriously done now because I'm really scaring myself. I mean, it's not like I haven't occasionally entertained the possibility of, you know, eventually, maybe in a few years, thinking about...that. But I try not to think about it right now, first of all because I don't know how I even feel about being engaged again after I spent so many years engaged to the wrong guy, and secondly because despite what goes on in my twisted little fantasy world you and I are not dating. We have never dated. And for all I know we never will. I just happen to be secretly in love with you. But still that doesn't mean that anything is ever going to come of it. So I think I'd better steer clear of that particular fantasy for now.

But... I really hope something does come of it. Because, well here, let me see if I can explain. Do you remember that one time when I said that if you left I'd blow my brains out? Well, I meant it. Wait, no. Not exactly. I mean, well, okay I wouldn't technically blow my brains out because that's a little extreme but the sentiment was true. And it still is. What I'm trying to say is that I have to keep hoping that someday this will all work out and that we'll finally be together because if I didn't have you in my life I don't know what else there would be that would make it worth getting up in the morning. No wait. That's not exactly true either. I could live without you if I really had to, but it wouldn't be a real life. There's just something about you that brings out the best in me, and without you around, like when you were gone this summer, I'm not fully myself.

Sorry. I know I'm rambling. And I don't know why I keep apologizing to you when I know you'll never read this. I guess that's a bad habit of mine. I hope this is making sense to you. I'm trying to get it all down so that it will make some sense to me. I feel like if I can get it all straight in my head, then maybe someday I'll be able to explain it to you for real.

Later- I've kept this paper in the pocket of my sweater for the last few hours because I plan to take it home with me and burn it. I can't believe I wrote all that down. I am so pathetic.

Now that I've got it out again though I might as well keep writing for a bit. These letters are perfect because they make it look like I'm busy, which makes it far less likely that people will come up to my desk and ask me to do things for them. That's another thing I miss about not being friends with you. You were always so good at running interference. Whenever Dwight went off on some incredibly boring tangent about Battlestar Galactica or his newest laser tag strategy you were always there to step in with something that would send him back off into Dwight-world. And then you'd just smile at me, grab a few jellybeans and sit back down at your desk. I don't think you even realized how much I appreciated you saving me like that. You probably just did it without thinking. I still can't believe I didn't know then how much I loved you. I did love you though. It's funny that I can say that, but it's true.

I can't remember when I started loving you, but I know that I've been in love with you for years even if I wouldn't let myself acknowledge it until a few months ago. Well, it's past 4:30 and I still have some actual work to do. Crazy I know! Anyway, you look like you're getting ready to leave so since I can't say it out loud I'll write what I want to say right now. Goodnight Jim. You're still my best friend. And I love you.

Love,

Pam

P.S. On second thought, maybe taking this home to burn it isn't such a great idea. I'd probably be tempted to keep it.

P.P.S. If we ever do get engaged can I just request that you not propose to me in front of a crowd? I'd rather it be just the two of us. Not that I've pictured it. Much. Wow I so need to stop writing now. I'll get back to you when I'm not in such a crazy mood.

Just as Marsha finished reading Pam's postscripts she heard her co-workers coming down the hall. With a quick burst of energy she jumped up from her place in Pam's chair. Whatever her reservations, now was the time to act.

She folded Pam's letter back up and returned it to her pocket. Her fingers were shaking again as she hurried to Jim's desk and slipped her own envelope underneath the few papers piled on his keyboard. As the rest of the crew walked in she headed to the back to give herself a minute to calm down from the shock of what she had just done. She didn't want to have to explain to Henni and the others why her breathing was shallow and why she couldn't quite feel her legs. That didn't matter, though. She had done it! This was it.

She had just passed the point of no return.