It crept up on me over the course of eight years.

When I first met him, I was so focused on trying to prove myself –– making him see that I could be useful –– that I didn't really look at him. He was an obstacle then, the only thing that stood between me and a job I desperately wanted. So imagine my surprise when a week later he walked into the hotel lobby in South Carolina and my first thought was, "Wow, he's really cute!"

I left so soon after that moment that I couldn't develop a genuine crush on him. I went back to my boyfriend and forgot all about him and how cute I found him when he was rumpled after falling asleep at his desk or so excited about the new polling numbers that he couldn't contain himself. And then, after I broke it off with Freeride for good, I came back. And he treated me like I'd never left –– like I'd always been his assistant and I'd just come back from vacation.

Thank god. There's a pile of stuff on the desk.

He'd given me no grief. We just went back to what we'd been before I left. I kept track of his schedule, answered his phone, and didn't bring him coffee. And somewhere between telling him Congressman Harris was on line two and coming back from Starbucks with coffee for myself and not him, I discovered I had developed a bit of a crush on Josh Lyman. I found myself caring a bit more about what I looked like every day even though I knew he wouldn't notice. He's never been concerned with anyone's appearance except the candidate's. But on the off chance he did notice, I made sure I looked perfect. I considered bringing him coffee one morning but thought better of it. I wanted him to notice me, not my feelings. Especially since he was still dating Mandy Hampton.

Once we were in the White House, I started to get a grip. I knew that nothing could happen between us because of the scandal it would cause. I wasn't going to put him in a position to have to battle any sexual harassment rumors. So I started dating. Sam made a comment about it once. I just told him that now that we were done on the campaign trail and I'd moved on from my ex, I was ready to date again (I dodged a few campaign flings by saying that I wasn't yet over him).

I realized I hadn't actually managed to kick my crush after Rosslyn. I took care of him all summer and pretended I was doing it because I was his assistant, but the truth was that part of me enjoyed playing house with Josh. Occasionally I would spend the night at his apartment, and waking up to him was something I could definitely see myself getting used to, but I didn't admit that my feelings weren't going to go away until much later.

It was just after President Bartlet was reelected that I figured out I was never going to not be attracted to Josh. I mean, what kind of guy shows up to throw snowballs at your window so he can whisk you off to a ball? If he'd felt the same way about me, I would say it was romantic…

It wasn't until Germany that I realized I'd fallen in love with him. When I woke up and the first thing I saw was Josh looking disheveled and unshaven and perfect, I knew that was the sight I wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of my life. I wanted this man who had flown across the Atlantic Ocean to be with me.

Leaving him was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I had a plan. I was going to make him take me to lunch and I was going to tell him all the reasons I was leaving. Because as much as I wish it had just been about the job, it wasn't. It was about the fact that I couldn't leave my job without leaving him. I knew he would take it personally. I would be another in the long line of people who had left him or been taken from him. But he just kept cancelling and I knew that if I didn't just get it over with, I would never be able to leave him.

It wasn't until this morning that I ever entertained the idea that he could feel the same way about me. Or that he could feel anything for me. I spent most of the day trying to tell myself that it was just an inevitable thing that happened. I even told him that it was bound to happen at some point.

But he keeps looking at me like he did this morning after the first kiss. Like he's really seeing me for the first time. So I finally mustered up my courage and slid my room key to him across the table when no one else was paying attention. I made my intentions very clear. I want him. I want him to come up to my room so we can do what it felt like we would have done this morning if we hadn't been interrupted.

And now Ronna is pressing the little envelope containing my key into my hand. I look back and he's still sitting there at the table, just looking at me. He's shrouded by darkness and I can't quite see his expression, but I do know he's looking at me. But he doesn't have my key. I was wrong. So I turn away and head for the elevator, trying to hide my disappointment in Ronna's presence.

I'm in love with Joshua Lyman, but he will never love me back.