Mission Accomplished

Well, I did.

I did have a good teacher.

And not just in politics. I’m getting better at those one-line put-downs. Delivered with a smile, but chilling for the other guy. Is it wrong that I'm kind of proud of that? Proud of my own imperviousness, my own resilience?

And man, am I proud of myself for being able, for finding it in myself, to do that to Josh.

Because it means – it must mean, mustn't it? – that I’m finally moving on.

I left to find myself.

Mission accomplished.

I left to find out who I was apart from him. To see whether I could learn, could grow, could be more, do more.

To see, too, whether I would ever be able to prise my heart back from him.

Mission accomplished.

I just wish there wasn’t a tiny part of me that was so ashamed for finding it in myself to do that to Josh.

New Hampshire

You should be with me.

Well, yes, Josh, and I would be if we’d had the conversation I wanted and you’d told me your plans. Timing was against us. Well, mainly your busy schedule and your unwillingness to put me first was against us.

I hate that I’m not with you.

I hate even more that I’m against you.

I hate that Will uses that to his advantage.

Don’t you think I would rather be with you? I know there's been all that water under those bridges... but I also know you were there in Germany waiting for me to wake up. You were there. I thought... Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm not putting it black on white. But I did really think...

And then nothing.

Nothing from you, just a bit more of the same banter, a bit more devotion, from time to time, enough to keep me hoping. Just enough to keep me dangling...

I waited, I thought maybe, this time, maybe...

And I thought when I quit, that maybe...

But nothing.

And if my personal life isn't getting the lift I've so foolishly been hoping for all these years, then at least I've made the right decision with my professional life. Oh, how I'd love to be with you. But I can't do it anymore, Josh. I just can't. It's not fun anymore. It's gut-wrenching. I just can't. This way I can at least focus on the job. As much as you can when your heart is breaking.

You should be with me.

What I wouldn’t have given to have you say that to me every time I went out with one of my gomers.

What I wouldn't have given to have you say that before it was too late.

It's too late now.

You had your chance, you had eight years, you had a campaign to run, and if you hadn't held onto me so tight as your assistant, you could have had me... in so many more ways.

You should be with me.

You know what? That ship’s sailed. I know you’re hurting. But you’re not a child and you need to take some adult personal responsibility. Please don’t lash out at me. If you can’t be adults about this, I’m getting my bristles out too. I have to protect myself.

You should be with me.

Well, yes.

Iowa

Tired. Tired. So tired.

Mom called yesterday and reminded me that normal people my age (with normal jobs) do not get up at 5.45 am seven days a week, for like, well forever, and asked me if I was doing okay.

The thing is, Mom, when I have ever been happy being a "normal person my age"? Hmmm? I know you'd like me to be. I know you'd like me to settle down and get married and get a nice office job that doesn't involve coffee beans and freezing to death in the snow listening to crazy people's views on how we shouldn't have income tax. You know what, part of me would like that too.

But I don't know if you will every understand how it feels to have been given this second chance at life.

I don't want to waste life anymore. Not one second of it. And if that means getting a little less sleep for a while...

Still, I'm tired.

Tired of all those buses and planes and meetings and late nights and early mornings and then all the smiling and nodding and intent listening and all the happy smilingness required to keep believing we can win, to keep wanting us to win.

Where's the buzz of that first campaign? Why do I feel like my heart is not in this? Not like it was? Is it just that I'm older and more jaded?

Tired, tired, so tired of fighting with Josh, fighting against him, tired of all these conflicting emotions that I don't have the time or the energy to analyse...

I miss him.

He's just there. Just the other side of this door. It's so pathetic that I want him to knock. But I don't want him to at the same time. It's weird and it's horrible and I miss the old Josh, the gather-your-rosebuds Josh, I miss us being us.

What I wouldn't give for one of his hugs. You know, from the old days, when we were Josh and Donna. When we were, let's be honest, "will-they-won't-they" - and not "well, I guess they haven't, and they won't, and that's that".

Or even before that, before I really realised how I felt. That hug from that second Christmas. That's the kind of hug I need. It's the kind of friend I need.

I'm so tired...