So as Leo would put it, I having a bit of a day.

When I woke up this morning, everything seemed normal. No signs of the apocalypse, no flying pigs, no meteorites falling to earth, Democrats were still in charge of the country. I just can't seem to pinpoint the exact moment everything went straight to hell.

You know what I need? Instead of a normal alarm clock that just rings to let you know it is time to get up, I need an alarm that is going to tell me about my day. Some sort of psychic alarm that could have told me this morning:

"**Ring** Ring**, time to get up, and, oh, Donna at some point tonight you are going to hilariously proposition one of your best friends for sex while the love of your love walks into the conversation at the exact wrong time, so maybe you just might wanna sit this one out."

I wonder if I could get NASA to start working on manufacturing those. Hmm, I guess we would need actual psychics though, that's a bit of a sticky wicket. Although those physicists have that 'Theory of Everything', so they must have figured something out about being able to tell the future. I should ask Josh about that, he never did shut up about that damn theory a few years ago...

Oh, yeah, Josh.

Josh is here.

Josh is here in the parking lot with Sam and me.

Josh is here in the parking lot where he just heard Sam says he wants to sleep with me.

Could things be any worse? I mean...Oh God, they could be worse; Josh might have heard me say that I think about him during sex with other men.

"Josh, how long have you been standing there for?" God, I hope it is dark enough that he can't see how badly I am blushing right now.

I desperately need to find out exactly how much of the conversation Josh may have overheard, when I hear him barely whisper, "Are you leaving me?"

For some reason Josh seems unable to look me in the eyes when talking to me now, which is just great because it is such a confidence builder when your best friend is physically incapable of looking at you.

But back to his insane question - Am I leaving him?

First, I'm not sure how I could leave *him*, since his is not mine to leave, but who does he think I am leaving him for? Surely, he's not dumb to take my conversation with Sam seriously. Well there's no point delaying the inevitable.

"Leaving you for who?"

"Sam. Are you leaving me for Sam?"

What the what?

Well, I guess he actually is that dumb. Sam? I mean I love Sam, he is like my older brother, but that doesn't mean I want to move to California. My alabaster skin definitely could not handle the sun. Does Josh really think that I am running away to have sex with Sam in California, I mean if I wanted to sleep with Sam there are plenty of beds available in DC.

So faced with a situation so awkward that if I were to discuss it with another human being they would think I was talking about a bad episode of 'Three's Company' (when really if you think about it was there ever a good episode of 'Three's Company), instead of my life, I go back to the one thing that has gotten me through 6 years of being in love with Joshua Lyman.

Misdirection.

You see I don't want to even contemplate the thought that Josh now knows, because I very stupidly – confessed to Sam, that I might on occasion, or every occasion for that matter, think about Josh during sex with other men (Bad Donna!).

It's not like I am a stranger to humiliation, oh no, we are very close friends actually humiliation and I, best friends forever if you will, we go all the way back to Grade 1, when I was too shy (I know, imagine a world where I was shy and scared of talking) to ask Mr. Wilder, my teacher, if I could go to the washroom. At the time Grade 1 seemed so much scarier than kindergarten, no more nap time, no more milk and cookies in the morning, so instead of asking, what my 6 year old mind perceived to be an ogre of a teacher to please be excused from the class, I simply peed my pants during reading circle.

And can I say that my road to humiliation has been all downhill from there.

I mean there was the Minsk candle incident; it is never fun when a whole airport terminal has to be evacuated because of your smuggling tendencies.

Oh, and I will never, and believe me I have tried, I will never forget about the Underwear Incident (I refuse to say the word panties as I am no longer 7 years old). That was a special level of humiliation, having my undergarments paraded about the bullpen for all to see. Of all the ways I have imagined Josh coming into contact with my underwear, and there have been many, having him fondle them in front of Sam in the White House actually never made it to the fantasy list.

So I realize that the only way to handle this particular level of humiliation with Josh is to try and meet it head on using misdirection and humour.

I turn towards Josh and snap my fingers to get his attention. That man really needs to start looking me in the eyes.

"So let me get this straight, according to your Josh-logic, you rudely interrupt someone's conversation, and then during that rude interruption you overhear Sam, who is your best-friend by the way, saying rather innocently that in a purely non-reality based hypothetical way he would sleep with me, the next logical conclusion you reach is me running away to California to live in sin with Sam? Does that sum up things pretty well?"

I make sure I keep eye contact with Josh the whole time so he can see how ridiculous he is being.

I mean really, while I am thanking the Gods that Josh seems to have missed the first part of my conversation with Sam (i.e.: him not loving me, sex with other men) and I do love Josh, it is just sometimes I think that my little Abner, with his secret plan to fight inflation, is too stupid to live.

Plus, I just don't know how this conversation is happening. I thought the "dump all over Donna and make her life miserable" was over at least for a little while. Things have been amazing these last few months, okay so Hoynes resigned in disgrace, Zoey was brutally kidnapped, my job description suddenly included becoming a glorified babysitter, Josh started having sex with Amy again, and I discovered that Josh was never going to love me, but really just subtract those small life shatteringly horrific events and things have been great.

Honestly.

Actually, I thought my relationship with Josh has evolved into something new, yet familiar. It kinda felt like we were back to the old bantering pattern that we first created all the way back during the Bartlett for America campaign. Now, without the possibility of proclamations of love and affection from Josh I found myself more comfortable and relaxed in his presence.

Before there had always been a spark of possibility when we flirted, as though we were both playing a game of chicken, except instead of hurdling towards each other in cars at a high rate of speed we would both tease each other with some inappropriate comments, waiting to see who would be the first to walk away. Inevitably, one of us would find an innocent way out of the conversation and we would pretend like the flirting hadn't happened.

Recently our conversations had returned to their bantering goodness just minus the flirting, we're talked about the budget, grammar challenged interns, hell, I even got him out of a thing with Toby. And any time you can get out of a thing with Toby, it is a good day.

There was even a moment when he asked me to marry him. At one time those words would have stopped my heart in its chest; I would have lived off of the happiness of Josh's mock proposal for weeks, but post ephip-velation I know that Josh was being, well, Josh and those words meant nothing.

I should also clarify that just because I have accepted the fact that Josh doesn't love me, my own feelings for him didn't just suddenly disappear. After 6 years of being in love with Josh Lyman I unfortunately could not go cold-turkey, I need more of a gradual withdrawal; I need my very own methadone clinic to help wean me off of him. So while I am still in love with Josh, the actually feelings themselves have changed.

My feelings for Josh are now the same feelings I have for chocolate. Hmm, chocolate. You know intellectually that too much chocolate is a very bad thing; you can get fat, you open yourself up to a variety of diseases (heart disease, diabetes), but as much as you tell yourself that you are never going to have chocolate again the next thing you know you have eaten half a box of Godiva chocolates in one sitting. So it really is impossible to cut chocolate out of your life completely, you can't just go cold turkey. But on a positive note, you also know that chocolate in a limited quantity, according to the doctor, is actually healthy; there are antioxidants in chocolate that are good for the body.

Thus my relationship with Josh is like my relationship with chocolate. Pre ephip-velation my thoughts always revolved around finding ways to spend as much time as possible with Josh in a desperate bid to show him that I was the woman for him.

Since I was never strong enough to say the words aloud, I loved him the only way I could, by taking care of him, monitoring his diet, organizing his office, keeping him on track professionally.

Now, I enjoy the time I spend with Josh at the office, but I don't overdo it, no extra time outside of the office unless we are in a group or it is an absolute necessity. Like having only a small quantity of chocolate, I am slowly weaning myself off Joshua Lyman.

I should also say that I know Josh loves me, I mean as a best friend. The man has done so many things for me over the years. Besides giving me a job, when I was woefully under qualified, he has tried to get a presidential proclamation for Mrs. Menello, he wrote an inscription in The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing that will be with me until the day I day, and God, he helped me cover up a lie to congress, something that could have cost him everything.

So I know that Josh loves me, he is just not in love me, and there is a huge difference between those two statements.

So back to my plan - misdirection appears to be working as I can practically see the little hamster in Josh's brain sitting in his wheel mulling over my words.

"So, you're not leaving me for Sam?" He is still having a hard time looking me in the eyes when he says this.

Of course, trust Josh to pick out the part of any conversation that focuses on him.

"No, Josh. I will still be at the office tomorrow answering your phone, organizing your schedule, and not getting your coffee."

He slowly lifts his eyes towards mine, as though he is looking for something in my face that shows him that everything is going to be fine.

Whatever it was that he was looking for apparently he found because I can see the relief written all over Josh's face.

Okay, okay, I think the coast is clear; I am going to make it out of this conversation with my small sense of self-intact.

"Yeah, yeah, of course you're not leaving me for Sam, god, too many beers. Sorry, Donna, I mean why would you leave me for Sam? God, and you sleeping with Sam, like that would ever happen, there's no way you would ever sleep with Sam."

Great, things are good, so now we are just going to walk out of this parking lot, go back inside, have way too much to drink and enjoy some of the very little free time we have laughing with our friends. Maybe one day in the future we will all laugh at how ridiculous this situation is and….

"You know Josh, you really have no say over who Donna sleeps with, if Donna and I decide to change the nature of our relationship it really has nothing to do with you."

Noooooooooooo.

What. Is. Happening.

Did Sam not get the memo, the one that clearly illustrated that my misdirection plan was working fine and we were about to get out of the most awkward conversation in the history of man unscathed.

"Sam…" I really need to ask Sam what the hell he is doing before the train really goes off the rails.

"Excuse me? Are you standing in front of me telling me that you are actively trying to get Donna into bed?"

Oh, goodbye relief filled Josh, hello irrational angry and protective Josh, it has been a while, nice to see you again.

I need an exit strategy. Fast.

"Of course that is not what Sam means, he is just playing around, he…"

"Whatever my intentions are towards Donna, they are not something that I would have to justify with you. This is a conversation that involves only Donna and myself." Sam has this really serious look on his face when directing his words towards Josh.

I am getting real tired, real fast of these two morons interrupting me.

I don't know what Sam's game is, just seconds before Josh joined us in the parking lot Sam appeared absolutely disturbed by my joking of sex between us, now all of a sudden he is talking to Josh as though we were about to consummate our relationship right here next to the Honda.

"You go to California and come back as some sort of west coast asshole? So, yeah when you stand in front me talking about how you are trying to take advantage of my intoxicated friend you're damn straight you have to justify yourself to me." I can actually see the rage burning in Josh's eyes when he says this.

Josh and Sam have been unconsciously moving closer to each during their tense conversation. I am now standing off to the side watching two best friends fight about having sex with me. If this situation wasn't so pathetic, pathetic because I know that in fact neither of these men actually *want* to sleep with me, I would laugh.

"Josh! Don't talk to Sam that way; no one is trying to take advantage of anyone. Really this whole conversation is getting really silly, I mean…"

"What are you accusing me of Josh?"

"I think you know exactly what I am accusing you of."

My God.

I just realize that I have been transported into some sort of weird alternate reality because I am currently experiencing Soap Opera Talking.

What is Soap Opera Talking you may ask?

Well you know how on soap operas, and please do not even try and pretend that you have never seen a soap before, because you have and lying is very unattractive.

Anyway, so you know how when you are watching a soap and some people are talking then suddenly two of the people will break away to have their own side conversation, they literally step 3 feet way to continue their private conversation but for some unknown reason that 3 feet of space has created some sort of hearing vortex. Three feet and all of sudden they think that the poor yutz they walked away from can't hear them talking. I don't know about you, but if I slightly separate from a group of people my hearing still functions just fine because I don't live in a soap opera.

This is the situation I am currently in, Sam and Josh are having a conversation literally 3 feet away from me, yet they continue on as though I can't hear them.

Even though their strained conversation is about me neither of them has the decency to acknowledge my presence.

I can't do this.

I can put up with a whole lot of humiliation, as previously discussed, but I just can't do this.

The only thought going through my head right now is that I can't be a part of this anymore, not after 4 whiskey sours, or was it 5? I have no idea, but I know I am not drunk enough to be a part of this anymore.

I can't stand outside in a dark parking lot listening to Sam and Josh argue about the merits of who has and who doesn't have the right to sleep with me.

I can't explain to Josh that I finally figured out that he doesn't love me because then I would have to explain how for the past 6 years I had hoped of a future between us.

I can't bear to see the pity in his eyes as he realizes that poor naïve Donna has been foolishly harbouring feelings that are obviously unrequited.

There actually are some humiliations in life that I just can't bear.

I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

I notice that Sam and Josh have stopped their tense stand-off and are both staring at me.

It becomes clear to me that I have been muttering, "I can't" out loud instead of in my head as I thought.

At this realization, I do what any intelligent, reasonable adult would do when presented with an uncomfortable situation.

Run away like a little girl.