Note: Anything written in strikes is something that Jim scribbled out so Pam couldn't read it.

That night he sipped on imported beer and weighed his options.

If he sent a letter back, what was he doing? Probably ultimately putting himself through more pain. She hadn't mentioned Roy at all in the first letter, which made it easier, but what about later when she was more comfortable with her life in California? He didn't even want to think about her and Roy together, so why would he want to read about it straight from the horse's pen?

Would she talk about how happy they were together? Maybe. Probably.

Would she say they were miserable? No, she probably wouldn't.

If he didn't respond, he would never know. They would lose touch and maybe he would move on. He would find a nice girl, one without a fiancé, and maybe he would fall in love. Was that how this sort of thing worked? Did he need closure? He figured he could probably get some closure from the letters. Hearing about her life with Roy, however casually, would probably extinguish the last ember of hope that hid deep in his belly. Maybe he needed that; he wasn't sure. Did he want to be in love with her forever?

Well, he thought, under different circumstances...

He sighed and chugged the last of his beer before sitting down and picking up a pen.

Pam,

It was nice to hear from you. I, well, I wasn't really expecting... well, anything. If anything I thought maybe an email, but... wow, this letter isn't really going well so far. I guess that I'm glad the weather is nice. I hope you've made some new friends by the time you get this letter. Maybe your neighbor will have invited you out to bingo or something. You can join the Red Hat Society. My grandmother's in that and she thinks it's pretty awesome, so I'm sure you'd have a great time. Plus, you look great in red and purple, so... think about it, Beesly.

The house sounds great. I'll admit - I'm a little jealous of that porch swing. I'm still in the same place. Mark's getting pretty serious with his girlfriend, so I might end up with it all to myself soon. That won't be too bad, I guess. I'll have to keep that quiet around the office though. I don't need Michael trying to make me his roommate in his "bitchin'" condo. Yeah, Michael says bitchin' now. It's been a rough couple weeks for him. He can't get over you. I can't He held a memorial service in your honor and it was just as disturbing as it sounds. I'm pretty sure the new receptionist starts next week. I feel bad for her already and I haven't even met her yet. Other than that, nothing new is going on. It's the same old office and the same old Scranton.

Wish you were here.

Yours
- Jim

P.S. I thought I should say... I miss you, too. I'm glad we're going to keep in touch. I don't want to lose you as a friend, so this is good. I'll keep you updated on the office and, you know, me and everything. I hope you're happy out there. I'm sure you'll meet some famous people soon and there's no way you won't make some new friends. You're a great person and You'll be partying with Lindsay Lohan any day now, I'm sure. Stay classy, Sacramento. Wow, that was lame.

P.P.S. Send me pictures of the art you're doing out there, too. I'd love to see it.

P.P.P.S. I had a bagel for breakfast.

P.P.P.P.S. How many post scripts is considered crossing the line?

Before he could rethink it, he folded up the letter and stuffed it in an envelope. Something within him, probably that last spark of hope, made him want to go to the post office now to mail it, but he didn't move. Somehow three paragraphs had paralyzed him. He hadn't wrenched his heart from his chest to stuff in the envelope. He had kept it all hidden inside, deep and safe within his chest where it would weigh heavily on his lungs. Is that why he couldn't breathe?

He felt cheated. Was this what falling out of love felt like?