Just watched last night’s The Office. Pam’s confession to Jim had me thinking about everything in my life. And about television. Because guys, this is good fiction. This is good television. When you feel for the characters and get involved and you hope with everything inside of you that things work out for them because you feel for them. You feel for them because you see bits of yourself in them. And if there was ever a character that better represented me besides Felicity, it’s Pam.
Pam had me thinking of her relationship with Jim, and the friendship that was there before things were weird.
There was time when I hated, for no reason that I could pinpoint, my best friend. I couldn’t stand him, his presence enraged me. It got to the point where I didn’t want to speak to him. I don’t know what happened, because I think at one point he hated me, too. And it was horrible. Because if I pushed aside all that anger I had pent up, deep down I was missing him. I was missing the fun times we had together and the person I was getting to know.
It’s only in the last few months that things have somehow changed and we became actual, real friends. He’s the person I confide in, who I feel comfortable around even when I look horrible. Who helped me move out and asked nothing in return.
And for some reason, at this very moment, I’m missing him terribly.
I’m only a week and a half into summer, a week and a half into not seeing him on a daily basis. This summer in Lexington is going to be incredible, but I don’t know how I’m going to get by without seeing my bestie.