"You look like you have something really important to say and you just can't for some reason. Come on you can tell me. Jim, you can tell me anything."

"Really? Anything?" he asked suddenly.

"Hey! You're not allowed to talk!" Pam insisted loudly.

"Okay, well you know what? I'm sick of not saying things. So here are a few things I've been meaning to say." Jim paused, hesitantly. "Pam, I love you. I love you more than I love grape soda. I love you like a squirrel loves nuts. You're my bestest friend and I want to marry you and live happily ever after, forever."

"Really?" Pam asked, questioningly. "Huh. I had no idea."

"That's it? That's all you're gonna say?" Jim queried with tears standing in his eyes.

"Um... yep."

"But... I said I love you. Did you not hear that? I. love. you." he repeated, accenting every word with extreme anguish. The tears were pouring down his cheeks now.

"Well, thanks Jim. I mean, that’s nice and all, but I'm engaged. But, I did hear about this one girl from the Stamford branch, Karen. You should look into that. I think a long-distance relationship might be the perfect thing to get you over your apparent obsession."

With that Pam headed back to her desk, and Jim, full of the worst kind of depression and pain--truly, he was pained beyond words--silently made his way toward the roof.

Later, as Dwight filled out his preliminary coroner's report for the Dunder-Mifflin newsletter he listed the cause of death as "jumping from the roof of a tall building, due to insanity, due to a broken heart."

Kelly--who had secretly been in love with Jim for years--cried for a month, and then she went out to lunch with Pam and shopped away her sorrows.