Golf? Seriously?

I wasn't going to do it.

I mean, seriously, trekking around a golf course lugging his stuff?

What did his last slave die of?

(Clearly, it could be a number of things: sleep deprivation. Overwork. Repetitive strain injury.)

But he looked so sad and so weighed down by anxiety after that deposition...

Of course I'll do it. It's the least I could do.

Maybe his last slave died of caring too much.

Ten years on from In Excelsis Deo: looks like we made it...

Ten years.

Can you believe it’s been ten years?

I can when I look at the photos of me, of us, from those days. Me so fresh faced. Josh with so much, well, so much hair. And perhaps a few fewer shadows under his eyes and wrinkly lines on his forehead. Those wrinkly lines I love, but still...

The book sits on a shelf higher than any potential damage that could come to it and sometimes when he’s late home from work or when the East and West Wings have worked well together or, more often, when they haven’t and I need to remind myself what it means for him and me to be a team, I pull it down and I read it, over and over again. And it never fails: pride and joy and pain knot together in my stomach until they are all overwhelmed with my love for him, with his for me.

Pain? Yes. Because man, those years. Loving someone that much and having to live in denial? Every day? Working just a kissing distance away from him? For nine years? Seriously. You try it sometime. It’s not a lot of fun.

But pride and joy. So much of those. I wouldn’t trade the memories of those for anything.

You are, quite simply, indispensable.

I know it’s a cliché, and I know Sam taught him to hate those, but my heart leapt when I read that. Did a little somersault right there inside me in the bullpen in the West Wing in the White House. Somewhere in those powerful halls was a fresh-faced blonde who felt for one moment that she was more than just a cog. That somehow she was holding the whole thing together, or at least holding together the man who helped to hold it all together.

Right there and then I knew. I knew: I want to work with this man for the rest of my life. Not as his assistant – as his partner – eventually. Right there and then I decided: my dream is to learn as much as I can from him, and to become all I can be, and to continue to work with him, on an equal footing. But it was him who drew me there. Him and his all-encompassing passion to make the world a better place. As he also wrote, we make a great team. Now that we’re more like equals than ever, it’s still true.

It took me a while to realise that I wanted more than just a work partnership; to understand why when I dreamed of children way out there in the future they always seemed to have fluffy hair and dimples and Jewish-sounding names.

It took that awful night at Rosslyn for me to realise not only the depth of my feelings for him but also the nature of them. This man was no big brother; not even just an attractive boss I had a slight crush on or a soft spot for. This man was HIM. You know, like in the song, “I’ve found the one I waited for... Gonna love you till the seas run dry...” I’d found him and I’d almost lost him, all at the same time, and it was all too much, and I don’t know how I stayed in one piece that night and the nights that followed. Looking after him held me together in a weird way, though every step of it was painful and I still feel sick when I think about it.

That was nine years ago. And he’s still the one I run to. The one I want for life.

Looks like we made it. Look how far we’ve come...

In excelsis deo...

Wow. I’m walking on air. (or should that be in the air, like that British snowman character? It is Christmas after all...)

Sentences like that one just go to show what today has done to me. I have, quite simply, lost it. I almost cried, for goodness’ sake. Right there in my bullpen. Right there, hugging him. Hugging him till I had to let go because, well, it was work, but I could have held him forever.

He’s a great hugger. Not everyone is good at that. But he puts his whole soul into his hugs. And I could have sworn he did that smelling my hair thing. We all know what that means.

Now my cheeks are aching from all the smiling.

You are, quite simply, indispensable. Essential to my well-being.
And I’m not just talking about the job.

I keep reading it. Over and over. Those are my favorite lines.

I’m indispensable to him. I make him who he is. We make a great team. He said that, too.

I’m indispensable. That means that he can’t live without me. Oh Josh. I don’t want to live without you either. Ever. I don’t want to have children and get old and have grandchildren with anyone else. You have ruined me for anyone else.

Oh, Josh. Go home and dream of your indispensable woman. Then come back after Christmas and kiss her...

I know what you’re thinking. (whoever you are. Like I’m gonna publish this to the world.) But leave me alone. It’s Christmas, and I will dream if I want to. When we go back to the office I will be nice and sensible and forget that maybe, just maybe, today I caught a glimpse of the fact that he cares about me as much as I care about him.

But it’s Christmas, and I will dream. I will dream of a future we can build together for ourselves, our family and ... our great nation.

I’m trying to be deep here but I keep getting mental images of lots of curly haired, dimpled Josh and Joshettes. But blonde. Like me. Okay. Getting ahead of myself here. First we need to – anyway, no, unhelpful to go there. Unhelpful but so... pleasant. So very, very pleasant.

But it’s Christmas, and I will dream if I want to. I will think happy thoughts and get ridiculously ahead of myself if I like. Work can wait. Reality can wait. And for a good few days I don’t even need to try and cover anything up. Which is nice.

Worrying about what he would think if he read this can also wait.

I’m off to re-read what he wrote.

I’m so happy. Did I mention that?

I love Christmas. Who needs skis anyway?

In the shadow of two gunmen...

It’s 2 am. I’m still here. Of course I’m still here.

Where else would I be?

God, if you’re out there, listen to me. I’m begging you here. Give me this man back. Give this country this man back. He has not even begun to be all he can be.

This man, this man... so fragile inside but so... so... I can’t find the words. He’s precious. The world cannot afford to lose him. America cannot afford to lose him.

Aargh. Who am I trying to kid? You’re not stupid, God. You’re not fooled.

Stuff America. This isn’t about America. This is about me. I’m trying to sound all selfless and
appealing to you for the Greater Good, but the truth is -
I cannot afford to lose him.

He’s everything to me. He gave me that opportunity to find my confidence and start over. He gave me a reason to live. A reason to pick myself up off the ground.

Or was it him who picked me up? He said he couldn’t carry me. But the thing is, he did. His passion, his energy, his busy schedule even. His belief in me. His belief in me made me what I could be.

He makes me great.

He makes me all I can be. I’m not fully me when I’m not around him. It feels like something is missing. Right now sitting here at 2 am (well 2.27 am now) something is missing because he‘s not fully here. Part of me is missing. Part of me is lying on the hospital bed whether I am going to live or d..

Not going to write that word. Not even going to think about it. Lord, I pray for health and vitality. I pray for life. Life. Life. Life.

L I F E

His life, my life. Intertwined. I don’t think I can face life without him.

Oh my gosh. I’m in love with him.

****

It’s 6 am and I’m still here and now I’m panicking.

I can’t be in love with him.

That’s not in the script.

But it does explain a lot of things. The butterflies for instance. The tears when I read what he wrote in my beautiful book from last Christmas. The way I will do anything for him, go above and beyond the call of duty, every time, without any question, just because.

How did I not see this coming?!!!

What do I do?

Help me someone, what do I do now?

HELP!!! HELP!!! HELP!!! SOMEONE!!!

But I can’t talk to any of you. This has to remain unsaid. Otherwise... otherwise I have to... No. That’s not going to happen. He will get well, I will be by his side, I will help him to become all he can be. There is so much in him. So much, so much good.

Help me God...

I’m a wreck.

Health, strength, vitality, please God I pray.

The rest we will deal with somehow.

*****

I want to add an epilogue to this. I know that I was just going to stick the pages in, in no particular order (which is driving me mad, by the way – if this baby takes much longer I am going to have to start putting them in date order or color coding them or something), and not comment. Let the pages speak for themselves. But here... Here I can’t keep the emotion that’s welling up inside me from spilling out.

That night... I can’t think about it without crying. Sometimes, even after all these years, all this water under all these bridges, I wake up sweating from a nightmare like that one and I have to turn over and I have to look at him and touch him, and sometimes I have to wake him up and get him to hold me, hold me till I stop crying, till I stop shaking, till I remember all this was a very long time ago and he’s got me, and I’ve got him, and he’s fit and healthy and all mine and there never needs to be any pretence again.

That night... Nothing has ever compared to it, and hopefully nothing ever will.

But the thing with that night too, is what followed it. The realisation that I was deeply, passionately, head-over-heels in love with him, that there was nothing I could do about it... literally nothing. Nothing. For the next seven years. (Like Jacob who had to work seven years for the woman he loved. But then he got the wrong one. I tried not to think about that.) You know, that was like a hand reaching down inside my gut and twisting everything. Seven years seemed like a very long time.

It was.

That night was just the beginning of a gut-wrenching eternity.

Oh no. I’m welling up. I’m going to have to call him. His staff are going to love that. Still, we can put it down to hormones this time... Sometimes only his voice can calm me down. I wonder if that’s what will stop the baby crying too.

In the cold light of day...

In the cold light of the day, after I've written things like that, I always cringe slightly. Sometimes more than slightly. I would like it to be borne in mind that I was not entirely sober, and a more than a little frustrated. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick" and all that... And nine years is a lot of deferral.

But I will not allow this to rock me. CJ is right on one thing - there is more to life, more to my life even, than Josh Lyman.

Besides, I really want to win this thing.

It was bound to happen sometime...

Oh, damn it, damn it, damn it. So close. So very very close.

He should be with me right now. Instead we are just both going to be very embarrassed about this in the morning. And for no reason. Nothing’s happened.

Well, not nothing exactly.
He kissed me.
Josh kissed me!!!!!

J o s h
K i s s e d
M e !

I feel like I’m fourteen again. I’m exploding with happiness. I’m wanting to doodle flowers and hearts and his name and my married name. (Well, let’s face it, some of that I have actually already done, been doing for years... thank goodness for diaries no one sees!!)

Well part of me is. The other, adult part of me is sad and frustrated and confused and hurting and embarrassed... oh damn it. We were so close.

Did he even want that key? Could he not have fought a bit harder for it? What does it all mean? Was it just the euphoria of the moment?

What does it mean?????

My head is actually going to explode. It’s certainly spinning a lot after all that wine I had to help me on my way. To help us on our way. I guess there’s a chance he could knock. There’s a chance. I should stay awake just in case.

Like there’s any chance of sleeping anyway.

What a day!!

Well done me, though. I thought that was a spectacularly good line in the moment. “Don’t worry about it. It was bound to happen sometime.” The very epitome of low-maintenance. Chilled out Donna-like ness which is why he loves me. (If he loves me. Who knows?) But man, inside, I was not chilled out. Inside I was screaming “CAN’T YOU SEE WE ARE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER AND THAT’S WHY IT WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN SOMETIME?!” Inside I was screaming at him to explain what the heck he means. Inside I was, I’m ashamed to say it, punching him: how dare he minimise our moment? I’ve waited nine years for this!

I will never be able to hear the words “South Carolina” again without shivers down my spine. I’m not entirely sure I will ever be able to face him again without shivers down my spine either. Not that I have in quite a while, it has to be said.

What now?

Seriously, what now?

If I was writing this story, he would come and find me, knock on my door and we could, well, start this thing. Stop faffing around. Stop having odd moments we are supposed to ignore. Stop bandying about sentences like “It was bound to happen sometime” and “it’s not what it looks like” and “I’m here for as long as I need to be” and even “you look amazing”. (Of course I want him to think I look amazing. But what good are THOUGHTS, really?)

We could BE TOGETHER.

Come on, Josh. One small step for man... Come and find me. I’m waiting for you. I love you. I want to be yours. Body and soul.

But this isn’t a story, I don’t get to write it. (I may have built in a slightly shorter waiting period if I had.) And I don’t know what happens next. Another nine years’ limbo? Please God, no.

Billie Holliday’s Body and Soul – seems like it was written just for us...

You’re making me blue

All that you do

Seems unfair

You try not to hear

Turn a deaf ear

To my prayer

It seems you don’t want to see

What you are doing to me

My arms are waiting to caress you

And to my heart they long to press you, sweet heart

My heart is sad and lonely

For you I cry (yes, that's how painful it is sometimes!)

For you, dear, only

I tell you I mean it

I’m all for you

Body and soul

I spend my days in longing

And wondering

it’s me you’re wronging

Why haven’t you seen it????????????????????

I’m all for you

Body and soul

I can't believe it

It's hard to conceive it

That you’d turn away romance

Are you pretending??

Don’t say its the ending

I wish I could have one more chance to prove, dear

My life a hell you’re making

You know I’m yours for just the taking

I’d gladly surrender

Myself to you

Body and soul

Life’s dreary for me

Days seem to be long as years (and it's been a lot of days!!)

I’ve looked for the sun

But can see none

Through my tears

Your heart must be like a stone

To leave me like this alone

When you could make my life worth living

By taking what I’m set on giving, sweet heart

My heart is sad and lonely

For you I cry

For you, dear, only

I tell you I mean it

I’m all for you

Body and soul