The closer he came to her the closer he was to finding himself. And though this was his latest discovery and took hours to solve while staring blankly at his computer screen, it happened to be the most grueling one to except.
But recently, it seemed harder and harder for him to be around her, or even imagine being with her. It was harder for him to think of excuses to wander to her desk and what he was going to say when he got there, her eyes gazing into his. It was harder for him pass the time daydreaming of what it would be like if he could hold her hand without reason; just because he could. It was harder for him to look at her smile because he knew he had the chance to call it his.
His eyes wandered aimlessly from website to website popping in front of his dreary eyes. The computer screen was a sanctuary for his restless mind to unwind and plunge through cyber levels away from the expectedness of handling reality. His hands tapped gently on the keyboard as he responded to various emails from his family and friends, wanting to tell them more than his usual, “I’m doing fine, everything’s great.”
He stands up and stretches his long, lanky arms toward the ceiling. Yawning, he runs his fingers through his muddled hair, his grey eyes blurry from the inevitable rush of sleepy tears. The clock flickers bedtime as he glances at the small, silver frame situated on his nightstand. Tears teem his eyes as he inhales sharply, seeing her smiling face and glossy eyes stare into his. A finger brushes against the matte finish and traces along her jaw line, chin, and lips.
Suddenly, a wave of anger flushes over his mind, body and soul and he thrusts his hand ruthlessly at the frame, sending it clashing against the hardwood floor. It shatters, pieces of glass scattered as her portrait hides behind shards, her smile threatening yet oh so alluring. His hands rush to cover his face, tears trickling between his fingers as he collapses on his navy-quilted bed. He heaves through tears as he trembles with knowing it is really, really wrong that he’s wasted so many years because of her.
Unable to stop the grief-stricken pulsing in his veins, he meanders toward his bedroom window and pushes the translucent curtain aside to see the night’s view. His legs feel weak as he glances toward the stars, his throat tightening as he blinks to make his vision clear.
The entire time he knew Pam he’s been spinning out of control. Like an autumn leaf, he blows carelessly through the wind, uncontrollably lifted higher once in a while from the little perks in their relationship until he eventually begins to fall. Then finally and inevitably he hits rock bottom and that’s when he realized he had given up.
If he had to use one word to describe Pam, just one word to sum her up, it would be ‘goodbye.’ She was goodbye. No matter how much he wanted to say ‘hello’ to her wide grin, her rosy cheeks, and that effortlessly curly hair, the only thought that ran through his mind was ‘goodbye.’ He had to move forward, step toward the path that would get him somewhere other than sleepless nights and drunken dinners. He tried. He really did. But trying never seemed good enough when it came to her, and he had no choice but to swagger forward, looking back only to see if she was looking, too.
And though he never noticed, she was always looking.
He gazes up at the stars hanging in the autumn night, wanting nothing more than to get lost in their array of eternities. The stars glistened against their cosmic backdrop and shone even farther from the tears nestled in his grey eyes. They looked huge – almost as big as the things he used to call his dreams.
He remembers specifically thinking, “What comes next is up to me,” on various occasions, whether it was something insignificant like meandering to her desk to nonchalantly to discuss something Dwight had just done, or as large and significant as the night of the office’s casino party.
But now it wasn’t up to him. He tried too hard for too long and now all he could do was sit back and see if she was worth waiting for.
His fingers glided across the cold glass, streaking its freshly Windex-ed base. He sighs, his eyes clenched tight as tears seeped between his damp lashes, mourning the fall of his determination.
He glances at the stars once more before he feels like collapsing.
“Yeah,” he thinks, wiping the tears from his sore eyes. “They’re almost as beautiful as her.”
He pushes the curtain shut and sighs, hating how stars make him think of Pam. They lead him to realize that the pain of not having her in his life will never subside…but if stopped trying maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jim breaks down only to fall farther.
Chapter End Notes:
Angst! Pam's side next and their encounters...
