Written from Jim’s POV on the night of Phyllis’s wedding
“Cmon, Halpert, get yourself together”. As if talking to myself is going to make this any easier. Karen’s in the next room. Beautiful, smart, witty Karen. The Karen that Tom and Pete are jealous of. The Karen that captivated me in Stamford. The Karen that I am dating. So why the fuck am I feeling so empty?
I grabbed the toothbrush and slopped on some Crest SuperWhite toothpaste. Karen bought it for me. She said with the way I drink coffee, I am going to need some serious teeth remodeling. It’s nice to have someone to look out for you, to care about where you are when you come home from work, to sleep next to and to want to be with you. It’s nice to be cared for, it’s nice to be wanted. Then why, why the hell don’t I want her? She’s so perfect—on paper.
But that’s the thing. I hate paper. I sell paper for a living, and I fucking hate my job. I don’t want to think about paper anywhere other than work, and I don’t even want to think of it at work. So while Karen may be great on paper, she’s not great in real life. Yet here I am, getting ready for a wedding and the ultimate professing of love, with a woman that, to me, is just a sheet of paper. But here’s the kicker: I’m pretending I don’t care.
I look in the mirror and I don’t even recognize the man looking back at me. What happened? I’ve never let my feelings get to me before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever even had feelings before. Coach always said that pain was for sissies, and true athletes have no room for pain. That’s why when I broke my nose during the championship game of junior year, I put a bandage on, sucked it up, and went out there to win. I guess I always thought pain was just physical. I was too naïve to realize that emotional pain could even exist. But now I know all too well. I’m 27 years old faking my way through life in a meaningless job and meaningless relationship, while I have to sit and stare all day at the only thing that’s ever meant anything to me. I’ve never felt this empty, even before The Incident. God, I hope she doesn’t wear that blue dress again. I can’… I just can’t.
I remember the way the it caught her eye, the subtle sparkle in the dress bringing out the subtle blue in her eyes. The way it framed her figure, hugging her in all the right places, making me wish that I could hug her in all the right places too. The way it hung from her womanly curves, but not in a trashy way. Everything about it was elegant. Everything about her was elegant.
I remember the way it felt, too, like a sturdy silk in my fingers. It was soft, but not as delicate and flimsy as the stuff Katy would wear. Katy was flashy, Pam was modest. Katy liked to shop, Pam liked to paint. Katy was outgoing, Pam was reserved. Katy was hot, but Pam was beautiful.
Stop Jim. Just quit while you’re ahead. You know what thinking about this night does to you—feelings of anger, regret, longing, and sadness. Don’t think about the way it felt when she held your hand. Don’t think about how it was like all of your nerve endings had swam to your fingertips, propelled by your anticipation. Don’t think about how when she touched you, it was almost too much to handle, as if her fingers had some sort of magic lying inside them that seared through your white hot skin. Did she know? Could she see my heart pounding out of my chest? Could she feel the way my fingers, arms, whole body was sweating? Did she realize how I trembled as I held her, so unbelievably happy yet so fucking afraid that it wouldn’t last? Could she understand how much that moment had meant to me? Could sh—
“JIM! Can you come zip me up?”
Right. Karen.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the reality of my situation and exhaling any thoughts of Pam.
Karen had made it a habit of getting ready in my room. She thought I liked to see her getting dressed in my closet. She thought it made us closer, that she could dress for the day surrounded by the essence of me. She thought all this, but she was wrong.
I grabbed her zipper, and it moved easily up her slim frame. Her dress, dark blue, looked great on her, it really did. But it was harsh, it was boxy, it was dark. It was, pretty much, Karen in dress form.
“Hair up or down?”
I pretended to think about it, putting my hand to my chin and squinting my eyebrows. It didn’t matter to me whether it was up or down. I wasn’t going to be looking at her anyway. I just wanted to hang out with Pam, and have an excuse this time. And maybe I could even dance with her, and blame it on the alcohol. The thought of it all excited me, and I was ready to make my move. “Up,” I said.
“I should have known. You always like my hair back when we play”
Really I just wanted to leave already, and I knew she would take longer if I had said to put it down. And about the “playing”, it was just because I didn’t want her hair to touch me. When it would, all I could smell was Pam’s soft, curly locks. Karen had straight, rigid hair. I would tell her I liked it tied back because I wanted to see her whole face.
I grabbed a tie and started putting it on as I tried to figure out how I got to this place. I mean, not this literal place—I know how I got this apartment. Just the place I’m at in life. I know I didn’t mean for this stuff with Karen to get this….messed up. She was just supposed to be a thing to distract me from Pam as I adjusted to my new life in Stamford. I didn’t think she would actually follow me back to Scranton. I guess I gave her the wrong impression. Or maybe I was too stupid to even realize the implications of her coming. I thought she would help me forget about Pam. I didn’t realize it would be the complete opposite. Every time I look at Karen, I think Pam. I touch her and I feel Pam. I look through her at the office, look right through to Pam. I thought I could control these two worlds of mine colliding, but I clearly couldn’t.
“Cmon Halpert, what are you painting your nails in there? Let’s go already!”
It might have been funny if it was coming from Pam.
***********
The wedding ceremony was bittersweet. It was nice to see Phyllis so happy and spirited, but I couldn’t help but think that this might never happen for me. It took Phyllis 40 something years to fall in love. I’ve never been much of a sap, but I want to get married. I want to have kids, teach them how to play baseball, and spoil my little girl when her Mom’s not looking. I’m drifting off, picturing a future marriage, and trying my hardest to imagine it with the girl that’s sitting next to me, holding my hand, and not with the one that’s a few rows above twiddling her fingers.
Karen and Jim, Jim and Karen. The Halperts. The homecoming queen of Greenwich High and the basketball captain of East Scranton. We could live in my parent’s old house, unless Karen wants something more extravagant. She’s like that sometimes, but mostly just when I suggest pizza and she tells me that I need to be cultured and we end up going out for Thai. I shouldn’t complain though, I liked it. Karen has introduced me to new things. We could start a new life together. Our kids would be funny, smart, and hey, pretty damn cute. But she might as well be infertile for all I care. I don’t want to have children with her. I can’t picture us being parents together. Come to think of it, I can’t picture her as a parent at all.
Pam would be a great Mom. She would be warm and loving, the kind of Mom that would be in a magazine giving tips on the little things to do to raise your children properly. She would make them cookies and milk after school, and help them with their homework. She’d paint with them, and wouldn’t get mad if they spilt any paint on the counter.
Karen nudges me. “What the hell, Halpert, I know this is boring but you shouldn’t fall asleep.”
Somewhere in between the smell of fresh cookies and the imagination of Pam painting with my children, I closed my eyes. Not to fall asleep as Karen insinuated, but to really picture myself being there. I have to remind myself that this isn’t an imagination, it’s a hallucination. It’s my fucked up brain responding to the drug-like influence that Pam has over me. I want these feelings to be gone. I look over at Karen and she’s smiling. She’s really pretty. God, I sound like a caveman. Jim like Karen. Karen hot.
I spend the rest of the ceremony thinking about Karen, justifying to myself that she’s a great date. She’s making me laugh even at the most serious of times, as she mocks “I, Bob Vance, of Vance Refrigeration, take thee Phyllis…” We snicker and divert our attention to Michael, whose comical attempts are verging on wildly inappropriate. We’re laughing, this is good. Pam is alone and Karen is my date. So why am I the one that’s hurting?
****
I’m able to realize that I’m being…well, annoying. I’m needy and emotional and I cant appreciate what I have. So I go to the bar and take a shot. It burns on the way down, and I tell myself that it’s burning the longing for Pam. With each shot, I grow more and more numb to anything that my heart might be telling me. Four shots down, and I decide to make my appearance on the dance floor. I grab Karen’s waist from behind, and she giggles and turns around to kiss me.
“Halpert, I smell the alcohol on your breath. Is this how you woo a lady?”
“No, but it’s how I woo you,” I say as I dip her and lean in for a Hollywood kiss.
“Oh, okay. I could get used to that”
I’m feeling happy. Lightheaded, sure, but happy too. Karen and I dance together, and I press my forehead to hers and rock her slightly back and forth. She gently spins around and that’s when it happens. Not that “it” is anything significant.
It was just a simple turn of direction. A 180. I’m holding Karen and swaying to the music as I look directly in Pam’s eyes, now in my clear view. A directional 180 and an emotional. My happiness and playfulness are gone. I may have tried to burn the memories of Pam, but their ashes dissolved in my bloodstream and are currently flooding my heart. I need another drink. Actually, no. I need a cup of water.
My high has disappeared and I grab a glass of water from the bar. Suddenly I am very aware of how loud and off-key Kevin and his band are playing “Roxanne”. I step outside and linger, doing anything to just not go back in there. Then she comes out.
***
I turn around and there she is, so beautiful. She doesn’t need to wear flashy colors or put on makeup or do her hair. She’s wearing brown and a shawl. I cant help but think that nobody else in the world looks good in brown. I’m still drunk, but I feel like my happiness has returned.
I can’t help but talk to her, even if it’s just small talk.
“Hey!”
“Hey!!”
I guess I didn’t think of an exit plan. What do I say now? C’mon Jim, anything.
“So when are we gonna get to see some of those famous Beesly dance moves?”
Why. Why did I say that? I don’t want her to dance out there without me. I don’t want other people to see her “moves”, the moves that would make me fall in love with her all over again. I don’t want some asshole to see how great she is and take her away from me—again.
“Ha. Ha. I’m pacing myself.”
I don’t know what else to say. I don’t want the conversation to end, so I keep pushing her, even though I know she would never dance out there without the safety net of a partner.
“Come on. Get out there; give the people what they want.”
What I really wanted to say was ‘give me what I want’.
“No, I’m such a dorky dancer.”
The way she laughed at herself was captivating. She didn’t need to flaunt her dancing like other girls, she didn’t need to shake and grind to get the satisfaction of men. The way she danced was just like everything else she was to me—perfect. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was my heart talking for once, but I just came out with it without really even thinking
“I know and it’s very cute.”
****
That moment lost us as Dwight came barging through with some old man he was throwing out on the street. I figured I should probably follow the man, as it was my fault for telling Dwight that he was probably a wedding crasher. But I couldn’t bear to leave this place, this place where I had nearly said to Pam what I have been thinking since I arrived back at Scranton. I turned around to ask her to share her dorky dance moves with me, but she was gone.
Instead I find the camera crew, looking back at me as if they were yearning for my words. Why the fuck are these guys always here during some of my lowest and most personal moments?
And then there it was, the question I had been waiting for. Too, the question that I continue to ask myself every day.
“Hypothetically, if Pam was interested, would you dump Karen for her?”
Hearing the words said out loud made them more real. For some reason, I was not appalled at the crew as I should have been for suggesting I dump my girlfriend. I was not annoyed with them jumping at me asking such a personal question. I wasn’t even that mad that they stopped me from asking Pam to dance just a few seconds ago. All I could think about was that they knew something. They know what Pam says behind closed doors. They know what she thinks about Karen and I. They might even know if Pam has feelings for me. It took all of my energy to restrain myself from asking “Do you know if she’s interested?”
Instead I gave a noncommittal response. Actually, I don’t even know if it counts as a response so much as it is a regurgitation of what they had just asked.
“Hypothetically…if Pam was interested then…. No, it’s totally hypothetical.”
I was not going to pour my heart out to these guys, especially if they were not forthcoming with any information.
I started to walk away before I even really finished my sentence—as if that mattered. I sat down at a chair. Karen found me before I found her.
“Where you been?”
“Bathroom”
How long had I even been gone? All that happened in between leaving to get a glass of water, nearly asking Pam to dance, and then another untimely encounter with the camera crew made it seem like I had been gone for an hour. I don’t know how long I talked to Pam for, but when I’m talking to her, I’m never thinking about petty things such as time.
“Really? That long?” She looked concerned. Or was it doubtful?
“Yeah, got some …stomach problems” Nice Jim, lie to your girlfriend and make her believe you’re constipated. Real admirable.
“Sounds sexy. Oh Jim, Take me now!”
She was laughing, but I don’t know why. Not only was it not funny, but it was loud. What if Pam heard? I hope Pam didn’t hear. I looked over to see if she showed any indication of hearing. I mean, I’m she knows that me and Karen do .. ya know. We are dating after all. But I like to think that she suppresses that in favor of thinking that I’m holding out for her. Which, I kind of am. Karen and I aren’t intimate all that often.
I look over and see her laughing in some other conversation. I feel relieved, she looks unfazed by what Karen had just practically screamed. The relief disappears when I realize who she’s laughing with.
***
Goddamnit, when is she going to stop with that guy? I guess I don’t really have a leg to stand on though. I had my chance. I could have come back when I heard she called off the wedding. I could have been straight with Karen from the get go and told her that I’m in love with someone from Scranton and I want her as soon as I get back. But no, I had to have my pride. My stupid, good for nothing, pride.
I turn away from those two, feeling nauseous. Or maybe that’s just my fake constipation. Who knows with me anymore, I’m just a fucking mess. I’m just staring into my knees, hands on my forehead as I hear Karen’s voice on the microphone.
“Hey, this is Karen Fillapelli, here to sing Every Breath you Take, to entertain my boyfriend. Sorry if his entertainment comes at your expense”
He smiled a little. He liked that Karen cared about him, even if he has lied to her and shes trying to entertain him for all the wrong reasons. She looked happy up there, bouncing around, and singing without a care in the world. I had to stand up, I had to at least acknowledge that this was for me.
I started waving my cell phone, to show her that I was into it. And I can honestly say I was.
I really liked watching her up there. It was like a Karen I had never seen. She wasn’t the rigid, suit wearing, paper salesman *ahem, saleswoman*, she was fun and youthful. She wasn’t the girl that I was in a loveless relationship with, she was a girl that…well I’m not quite sure who she was up there. She pointed at me as she said “Every move you make..” All the guys in the room were looking up at her, probably waiting for her to take her dress off. They all wanted to be me. I didn’t.
***
As I grabbed Karen’s hand to help her get down from the stage, I saw Pam and … him out of the corner of my eye. I don’t even want to say his name. Not that it’s like, a Lord Voldemort kind of thing. Just that I hate hearing their names together. They were leaving together. He put his arm around her delicate shoulder and escorted her out. It was like a bad trainwreck. I didn’t want to watch, but I had to.
Pam was going home with Roy. I was going home with Karen. We both had someone to go home with.
Why couldn’t it be with each other?
I felt sick, for real this time. Plus, I actually had to go to the bathroom. All of the water drinking and shot taking..well, it adds up on a bladder. I told Karen I’d be right back.
“Are you OK?” she asked
Oh..god. Does she know about Pam? Can she see it in my eyes? Has she finally put two and two together? Does she realize why I’ve been so distant since we got back to Scranton? I’m not ready for this conversation now. Not after what just happened, at least.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
It’s not a lie. I will be fine. I will be fine. I will be fine.
“Okay.” She said. Then she whispered into my ear “I have some Tums in my car if you need.”
Right. That’s what this is all about. I forgot, I’m constipated.
“Nah,” I said, waving her off, as I pretended to grasp my stomach in pain.
I look in the mirror in the bathroom. “C’mon Jim. Get. It. Together” I splash some water on my face, hopefully to bring me back to reality instead of this Pam fantasy I’ve been playing over in my head all night. I wonder how many times I have to look at myself in a mirror to figure out who I really am.
I walk out of the bathroom, feeling a little bit fresher and a little more in check. I think about Karen, how we’re going to go home tonight together. Karen. Beautiful, smart, witty Karen. She looks out for me. She knows what’s best for me. She’s good for me.
In the middle of my stream of thought, I am once again accosted by the camera crew.
“Hypothetically, do you think you and Pam would be happier together?”
The question burns me at my core. There is no me and Pam. There never was. I was not anything to her but an office friend, someone to distract her from Roy until it was time to go home. And now, as they go home together again, I feel like…well, I can’t feel anything. She has drained me of my senses. I am numb.
“Here’s a non-hypothetical: Karen and I are really happy together”
And for a moment, I almost believe it’s true.
Story Notes:
This is my first fanfic! Reviews are much appreciated
I'll write Pam's POV if people want it!
disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or the story line. But oh boy..If I owned Jim...
I'll write Pam's POV if people want it!
disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or the story line. But oh boy..If I owned Jim...
