confessionals [and the secrets that make us tick] (ensemble) pg
Title: Confessionals (and the Secrets That Make Us Tick)
Fandom: The Office (it's been awhile, I know)
Pairing/Characters: Ensemble
Rating: PG
Word Count: 445
Spoilers: Through S4 (nothing in S5)
Author's Note: Everyone has their secrets. So I was reading through PostSecret entries and the idea for this fic popped into my head. I would say this is PostSecret: The Office Edition, but it's pretty close.
I stopped regretting it about a week after it happened, because you tried to break dance with a dirty band of hoodlums and my first thought was “that’s not my fiancé.”
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Sometimes I wonder if you’ll say his name in bed, not because I think you still love him, but because you were with him for so long and it might just be a habit.
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You know I don’t mean it when I say ‘I’m sorry’, and it’s the only time in my life I wish I could apologize sincerely.
Please forgive me.
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I eat other people’s food in the office refrigerator, even though I do notice that it’s labeled with a person’s name. Most of the time I’m not really that hungry, but I eat it anyway and I don’t know why.
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I think I started dating you because I wanted to be a mother so badly and you were the closest thing to a child I could find. Now that I’m pregnant I wonder what will happen to us.
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Sometimes I get jealous of refrigerators.
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I always thought Brittney Spears was a total slut and that she couldn’t sing, but I never said anything because my friends thought she was cool.
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Most of the time I hate being a boss.
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I think some higher power has it out for me, because I pined for just as long and he still got the girl. Maybe I just didn’t deserve her.
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I take comfort in the fact that he falls asleep first and if I had to I could always sneak out the window or smother him with a pillow.
It’s the little things that get you through the day.
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I went to community college for two years before I transferred to Cornell, but no one except my parents knew because I spend a kit-and-caboodle on Cornell paraphernalia to throw them off the scent.
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When we were dating, most of the time I hoped you’d realize you were too good for me and leave me.
But you didn’t, and I think that’s my biggest regret.
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Often I wonder if I’ll be able to occupy myself when I retire. One can only do crosswords and eat pretzels for so many hours of the day.
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There are days where I’ll wake up and think it’s two years ago, and it almost makes me ache when I see you sleeping next to me because finding myself (and you) was the truest, scariest, most painful and beautiful time of my life, and I wonder what it would be like to start all over again.
Again.
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