I Knew I Loved You

Chapter One: I think I dreamed you into life

The light cast heavy shadows upon the items in the room, giving them each a more sinister look. The dripping of one of the pipes could be heard; this was rather an annoyance each day but the silver lining was that one could potentially sit in this room and measure time this way. There was a dryness to the air, it would give one enough oxygen to breathe comfortably but the heavy level of dust, debris, and mold rendered any hope of exercise illogical.

In the room was a simple bed, white cotton sheets with a paper like quality. The pillow covered with a thin disposable lining, the bed frame was confining. The monitor by the bed would beep every so often as to tell that a life was being led. What kind of life it was didn't seem important, machines so rarely captured those things, but with this machine it gave you an answer to if life was being lived in the most basic way possible.

There was a small table at the side of the room with magazines and flowers, gifts of sympathy from loved ones. It was funny being here, living here, but it was necessary.

Nobody liked living in a mental health facility, that included Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.

However, since the day of the accident he had ended up here.

On the wall were different clippings he had found and glued onto the wall using his saliva and a little bit of whatever food he was being served that day. Quotes were dotted around the room with these ripped clippings, words like 'I think you're adorable' 'You're the love of my life' 'Perfect' 'Living a teenage dream' and one that he would always look at.

This last one had been a product placement, an advertisement in a pop-culture magazine, it had two colors balancing against one another. It was a cherry red mixed with a dark navy blue. 'Courage'

The floor was covered with pieces of ripped paper that Kurt had thrown down himself.

'I didn't make him up' 'Blaine Hummel-Anderson is my husband' 'Blaine isn't a dream' 'Blaine is alive' 'Blaine is real' 'I had a life with Blaine Anderson' 'I married Blaine Anderson' 'I didn't make him up' 'I didn't make him up' 'I did not make believe Blaine Anderson'

'Blaine Anderson is alive and he is real'

'Blaine loves me'

There was a tapping on the door as Kurt looked panicked towards the door, he opened his eyes seeing his father standing there. "Dad!" he said in his strained voice, it was always strained after he had been left barely alive in that car wreck which had killed the other driver. "Dad! Where is he? Have they found Blaine?" he asked

Kurt's father looked at him and frowned, "Kiddo, Blaine Anderson never existed. We've gone over this,"

Kurt struggled to breathe, he knew he hadn't made it up. It was real, everything had been so real! It had happened, he had had a wonderful life and then he was in a car accident, but nothing other than that. Nothing had changed!

"Dad, I didn't…" Kurt couldn't believe that his father was suddenly looking away from him and to that stupid medication chart.

"Kurt," the older man said as he studied the chart, "You haven't been taking your meds have you?" he asked

Kurt looked down, "Dad! I don't need to. I feel okay! It's Blaine, I have to go out and see Blaine"

"You can't even confront a mirror," Kurt's father said honestly, it was true, even though he had full use of his working limbs, his body had been so torn apart he didn't even look at himself any more, he couldn't. "You need to be taking your medication. Your mother would not like your rebellious attitude, especially after you spent so long in a coma."

Kurt looked down, that was what his father kept telling him.

Everyone kept telling him that he had gotten in the accident when he was sixteen years old after feeling tormented by Karofsky. He had gone out shortly after Burt and Carole had gotten married, after suffering some fever dreams for two weeks, and due to emotional instability had flipped the car. He had spent a handful of months in a coma and come out raving about a man named Blaine Anderson who had offered him a life much longer than that he had lived.

It was a sad thing to happen at times, that the brain would make up a life out of subconscious fear that there was no afterlife and therefore a loss of what one felt that the world owed them. That you could dream up the perfect man, dream up a realistic relationship, and then dream up a sub-standard wedding before everything shattered.

Your sub-standard wedding was your brain returning to waking life. Your realistic relationship only what you had always wanted, always planned in your giant wedding planner book, always constructed for yourself when you played tea party and other games. Your perfect man only the composite construction of those who you had found yourself attracted to, those who you had wanted to bond with, those who you had continual crushes on even if he himself was just an idea, a fantasy, a Disney prince.

And then even though you felt that this had actually been your life and you had flipped your vehicle on a drive from New York to Ohio with your husband in the passenger side of the car. The truth was that you had been sixteen and wanted so badly to live, so badly to be happy, that you would create that happiness the only place you could.

Everything existed inside of your mind.

As much as he wanted to argue with it, Kurt could see the point that everyone else had about what had happened.

If only it hadn't felt so….real.

—

I really want to get my butt moving and finish my other works as well, I think I'm finally in a position to do that but am going to try not to do too much at once :) I will also be rewriting a few things so that they feel fresh and exciting to me again.

The title for this fic is in reference to a Savage Garden song that links with Klaine in my head