NOTE: Lyrics to the song "The Film Did Not Go 'Round" by Nada Surf are used in this chapter and are in italics. I do not own them.

October 31st 2002

The shutter clicked, but the film did not go 'round
The shutter clicked, but the film did not go 'round
I touch these strings, but cannot touch the sound

On some level, I expected everything that happened.

I knew that you would come to me, and I knew I wouldn't mind it. I knew that you would say all the things you thought I wanted to hear. I knew that I would believe you. And I knew that once you had the chance, you would go back to him, to restore as much normalcy to your life as you possibly could. I wasn't able to give you much, but I gave you all I had. I knew that it wouldn't be enough for you to stay. I never blamed you for any of it.

That night, when you realized that your secure foundation with him was beginning to crumble, I saw you look at me in a different light. We've had our disagreements in the past, our warring words, but something softened in you, and I became someone else. Someone you could depend on, someone who would be able to comfort you. Someone who was actually here, while he was forced to go away. I kept telling myself that it was just the situation, that in the morning, after you've had a chance to rest, our dynamic would go back to normal and we wouldn't look back. But I knew that it wouldn't go like that.

We were playing with fire. You knew that. It's why we never wanted any concrete evidence of our actions. It was like the shutter clicking on a camera, but nothing coming from it; we knew it was happening, we knew what we were doing, but we had no proof to go by. Even if we did have proof, no one would have believed us if we told them. In their mind, there was no way Karen Walker and Will Truman would ever be together, let alone be civil to one another. It wasn't the way things went.

But you were always one for defying the norm.

On some level, I expected everything that happened. I knew that you would leave when Stan came back into view. But I never thought that when you were gone, I would feel this empty. I knew we didn't have much time together; only fools who get caught up in those romantic clichés think they have eternity with the one they love. But I knew better than that; I tried to make the most of it. But in doing that, I made it so that once you were gone, you would leave the deepest hole possible in your wake.

You showed me just how easy love could be
You showed me just how silly love could be
But everything you showed me gracefully

You came to me looking for that romance you were never rewarded with as a teen. You thought you were too mature for all of that in your adolescent age, but as the years went on, you wanted what you never had. You wanted to be so unconditionally in love that nothing else really mattered in your world. I did my best to give that to you, but I truly believe that it was you who gave me that teen-aged romance instead of the other way around.

What I loved most about you was the fact that I could just be standing there, and you would think it was the best thing in the world that you got to see it. I wouldn't have to say anything, but you knew that you were loved. You would hover over me when I first woke up, like an angel who had been given a second chance, your skin caressing mine in an effort to coax me into reality, a sort of non-verbal sweet talk. What you didn't realize was that this wasn't reality. Or maybe you understood and you were only playing oblivious for my benefit. Either way, you made it easy for me to think that what we had was real. You made it easy for me to start becoming one of those cliché-ridden fools. And I was beginning to think that if that happened, I wouldn't mind it.

As long as it meant that I got to spend my days with you.

I remember late at night, when you started making my apartment your home, the whispered conversations we would have about our future. Mainly, you took control of those; you had your own ideas about what reality had in store for us, and you knew that I would go along with anything you proposed. I remember the first night you told me, "Maybe I won't leave when he gets out. Maybe I'll just stay here with you." I closed my eyes when you said that, and I thought I imagined it. You didn't follow that statement up with anything else; you changed the subject mere seconds after, giving me no reaction time, giving me no chance to prepare a decent response. Of course I wanted you to stay here; deep down you knew that. And when you brought it up again the next night, I knew you were looking for confirmation.

"You know I would want nothing more," I said to you.

You giggled and filled me in on your plans: you would let the kids down easy and deal with Stan when he comes back. You would bring your clothes and a few things of personal value here—"I don't need anything else," you told me—and you would be able to start over. You seemed dead set on making this work, and despite all my better judgment, I believed you when you spoke with such conviction.

But he came back. And you left me.

You'll be waiting by my bed, I know
You'll be waiting by my bed, I know
And your last little words will be, "I love you so"

Grace dragged me on this festive Halloween expedition with the one she's currently infatuated with; they are currently off on some sort of date he guaranteed her would be romantic. She needed to prove something to him. It only makes me think of you. I never had to prove myself. I never had to show you how far I would go for you; you already knew. It makes me think of the dreams I have of you waiting in my bedroom, coming back to me; some nights you're standing beside it, some nights you're laying on top of the sheets. A few times, you were kneeling beside it, resting your arms on the mattress, almost as if in prayer, even though I know that's something you really don't believe in. But you always wait for me until you crawl in between the sheets. You always wait for me to come close to you so you can bring my ear to your lips, so you can make sure I hear you when you whisper to me that you love me.

I may be stupid for thinking of this; but it's all I have now. The shutter clicked, but the film did not go 'round. I have no pictures, I have no love notes. I have tiny visions of you—your true self, not the one you let Jack and Grace believe is real—that fade a little more each day with wear. I have the memory of our days and nights together, when we truly believed that we could take on anyone who tried to tear us down.

We were proven wrong when Stan came back to you.

I don't see much of you anymore; you'll be in your own little world when I visit Grace at the office. Grace knew about us—she was in the same apartment, there was no way to avoid that—and she knows all that I was willing to tell her. I can tell she senses something off between you and I, but she won't call attention to it. The only bad thing about it is that you won't call attention to it, either.

I can tell you think about what used to be. I can tell that, on some level, you're craving more as much as I have been. But you won't act on it. I want you to act on it, Karen. I'm waiting for the day when you finally decide it's okay to run to me. You're all I want.

I know you see that. It's only a matter of when you will listen to your heart.

I can be patient. I have my dreams to get me through this day, to get me through the journey home. Tonight, I will most likely not see you at my bed. But I can wait for you. I expected everything that happened with us.

But what happened after us, I never saw coming.