AUTHOR'S NOTES: JenWilson's "The Journal" does this so much better than I can. But I had this scene in my head, playing out again and again and needed to find a way to put it into words.
SPOILERS: Hell. Everything after "A Change is Gonna Come"… That would be a safe bet.
P.S. Believe it or not, I made myself cry when I wrote this.
xxx
I bet you never thought I would keep a diary again, did you?
Truthfully, neither did I. Not after the hearings, the depositions, the night by the fountain, …Cliff.
After that, I figured it would be best to just keep the running commentary in my head. Maybe that's where I went wrong, why I was so angry in those last few days. But I didn't want to be a liability to you again.
I didn't want to put you at risk.
But here I am, with this beautiful blank book that C.J. gave to me, open and empty in front of me and why not? This journal is really beautiful. It's the kind of thing I would never buy for myself, but you could expect from C.J.
So, I am sitting here in your incredibly oversized, blue pajamas on this old bed with the worn, comfortable quilt, writing in this diary.
And I miss you… desperately.
xxx
Josh, Joshua, Josh.
If you were here, I'd smack you on the back of the head for being stupid. Then I would kiss you for being amazing. And then, I think, I would smack you again on general principle. You deserve it.
Why are we always apart when the shitty stuff goes down? Can you tell me that? Rosslyn, Gaza, and now this. God. For once, I'd like to face something together, the two of us. I think we could handle anything if the two of us were together, don't you? We're like two Shakespearean characters from one of the tragedies.
"Angels and Ministers of Grace defend us…"
Did you know there are theories that Shakespeare didn't write all of the works we attribute to him? There's a little tidbit for you.
xxx
I'm really sorry we fought that day. The day you told me you were going to campaign for Santos.
You were right, in the end. He is a great man and the real thing, as C.J. would say. I didn't see it then, but I see it now. He's like the President was in the early days. Seeing him like this makes me think of those times more and more.
It wasn't that I didn't want to work with you. You weren't that bad of a boss, after all. I mean, there were the long hours, and the crappy assignments, and the hand holding, and the constant organization, and the phone calls. But it really wasn't that bad. And it was the White House. And it was an experience of a lifetime. And it was with you.
It's just that I wanted to know what I could do on my own. The only thing I really ever did on my own was driving to New Hampshire that first time – before that was Dr. Freeride and after that was you. I didn't know who I was other than "Josh Lyman's Assistant." For once, I just wanted to be "Donna Moss." Going to work for Russell was something I needed to do to find out who I was. I'm sorry it hurt you.
I never meant to hurt you.
But you were right about Santos. I just wanted to let you know that.
xxx
Philadelphia? Whenever I used to think of Philadelphia, I thought of the time we stopped there on the first Bartlet campaign and you took me to see the Liberty Bell. You recited the entire freaking Declaration of Independence for me while a group of 60-year old women watched. It was embarrassing, Josh. But, I have to admit, I admired you that day. It wasn't just that you knew the entire damned thing, but that you could recite it as if every word had special meaning. It was a sight to behold.
It's not what I think of when I think of Philadelphia, now.
Damn you for taking that away from me.
xxx
Will was the one who told me. You know, Will of the good cop/bad cop act? I can't help but remember that night when I see him. What a wonderful night. You threw snowballs at my window and gave me your coat.
Will was so new to everything and so confused by all of us. But he jumped right in with both feet. I guess that is what you have to do to survive in Washington. Just jump in and pray hard. He lost a little bit of his idealism after he jumped. But, I think we all did now that I look back. Sam, Toby, C.J., even you at the end. Well, even me at the end, too.
So, he had to be the one to tell me. Poor Will.
xxx
By the time I got to Philadelphia, they had already performed what surgery they could.
Leo was there. I don't know how he got there ahead of me, but he had the President's travel agent. That probably helped. I had forgotten what you can do when you have the President's travel agent.
Leo hugged me and when he did, I knew that this time was different from the last. Leo looked old, Josh, so old. In my head I compare what he looked like when I got to New Hampshire against that night, in the hospital. He looked awful – like he had aged 30 years. I was so worried about him.
He called you his "son" and he cried.
xxx
When they told me what happened, I have to admit that I couldn't believe that you, the most unobservant man in the entire world, a man who wouldn't know the meaning of the word "observant" unless you tripped and fell on a dictionary open to that entry, saw the gun.
How did you do it, Josh? Did the sun shine on it a certain way? Did the guy holding it make a funny movement that caught your eye?
They couldn't tell me. And you know what? I don't think I want to know. I don't want to think about what you thought in those moments.
Wait.
Yes. Yes, I do. I want to know, Josh. Did you think of Rosslyn? Matt Santos? Your Dad? Joanie? Me? Did you hesitate? Did you know that you would save him if you took one step to the left?
Were you afraid? I hope you weren't afraid, Josh.
Please tell me you weren't afraid.
xxx
In those two days in the hospital, you said a lot of things. I don't know if you were awake and aware or if you were talking in a daze, but I heard them. You don't have to worry about that, if you have been.
I know you, so I know you have been. So don't worry, ok?
I heard them.
xxx
The President's eulogy was amazing.
Then again, President Bartlet was always an incredible speaker. I used to wonder if it was Sam and Toby's writing, or the President's ability to speak, or a combination of both, that made him take my breath away. They made magic, the three of them, in those years we all were together.
Sam was there. C.J., Toby, Charlie, everyone. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but it's hard for me to think back to that day. There's too much there that's still too hard.
Sam took care of me, just like he did in the hospital all those years ago. He held me up, Josh. He loved you. That's something else I thought you should know.
President Bartlet cried. He didn't cry at Mrs. Landingham's funeral. He didn't cry when Zoe was kidnapped. He didn't cry all those times when most of us would have broken down, but he cried for you.
I do remember that.
xxx
C.J. and Toby miss you. We've been out to dinner a few times. I talk to them on the phone once a week. C.J. told me to write your story – that's why she gave me the journal.
Toby can't mention your name. I know things were bad at the end, between you and Toby. I wish it had been different.
But, I wish now that a lot of things had been different.
xxx
The Bartlets brought me to New Hampshire after the Inaugural. That's where I am now. In a farm house in Manchester, under an old quilt in your big, blue pajamas. You would mock me for this, I know.
Your guy won, by the way. I know you are proud about that. The election was brilliant and your guy won. You helped get the first minority elected to the White House. That is your legacy.
I think your Mom would have wanted grandchildren more.
The President and Mrs. Bartlet have been incredible to me over the past several months. President Bartletoffered me a position with the Bartlet Library – organizing his papers to be moved from the White House to the Library. I'm thinking of taking it. Even if it is just to get the ball rolling.
You're laughing. The idea of me, as a librarian, is causing you to snort and laugh.
But, in a way, it will keep me near you. You are in those papers, Josh. All your work and all your dreams. If it means I can be with you a little while longer, I'll take it.
xxx
I'm sorry I wasn't there, Joshua. I think about that every day.
Maybe if I had been there, I could have done something. Maybe if I had been there, I could have convinced you to walk with me. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Sometimes it's all I can hear in my head.
Maybe if I had been there, I would have seen the gun first.
xxx
It's dark outside now.
Sometimes, when I curl up really tight, under this old blanket, I think of those first days in New Hampshire, when we had everything in front of us. I can get myself to the point where I almost believe that I'm there. That you, Sam and C.J. are downstairs in the bar arguing about the things we will do when we get to the White House. That Toby is off watching the basketball game, smoking a cigar.
And that tomorrow we will go off to fight the good fight.
I don't think I can write anymore tonight. I think I want to curl up under the blanket and think of New Hampshire.
I'm sorry, Joshua.
I wish I had been there.