A/N: So, I came up with this idea and it was killing me to write it..I hope you like it, even though it may not be the best thing I've written. Comments/Suggestions are welcome :) Thanks!
Blaine's POV
It was the summer of 2006 and I had never felt more broken. I sat on the edge of my bed with my heart heavy in my chest. I didn't know if I should cry or scream and throw things, so I sat there. Numb to everything except for the internal pain stirring throughout my body. Even thinking of his name made the grip on my heart clasp even tighter. Like when your favourite CD gets a scratch and repeats in an endless loop. Something you'd loved so much had gone to waste.
"It won't work, Blaine. I'm leaving tomorrow for New York. I'm not coming back. And I'm not making it even harder on the two of us by feeling that pressure of trying to hold the relationship together while we're so far from each other. It's for the best, okay? You'll be over me in a few months anyway. We both have our entire lives ahead of us. I'm sorry, B."
My eyes began to burn as I listened to the words. They had engraved themselves in my memory and it was more painful than anything I'd felt before. My lips had been quivering for awhile when I felt that single tear slip down my cheek, then I broke. Needless to say, it look a lot longer than a few months to get over Kurt Hummel.
I was constantly reminded that he was doing fine with his new life in New York, how amazing the city was, how great his new friends were and of course, his latest call back for a part in that musical he'd been dreaming of being in. It was a force of habit for me, I had never had the heart to delete Kurt as a friend on Facebook, I didn't want to be "that" boyfriend. The immature little kid who would burn all the pictures, notes or cute stuffed animals we had shared and get rid of all remnants of the relationship. I loved Kurt, love Kurt. I cherished the mementos of our relationship, I still got the butterflies when I looked at the photo of us at prom. I still giggled uncontrollably when I thought of our inside jokes. I would never get rid of the happiness that Kurt Hummel brought to my life, but the pain sometimes out weighed the happiness now.
-.-.-
It had been 5 months since Kurt had left. Whenever I got upset I would still put on his old t-shirt that sported the Hummel's Tire and Lube logo. It would only succeed in making me cry harder because it'd remind me I wouldn't be able to smell him again. It wasn't even the big things that I'd missed the most. It was the small things that pulled constantly at my heartstrings, making that empty feeling appear and grow until I was empty, nothing but a shell of the person he'd left behind. I missed having a coffee break in between tutoring him on math, or when we'd meet each others gaze at the same time and sit there happily just looking at one another, or when he would subconsciously rub circles on my hand with his thumb when we held hands.
-.-.-
6 months after the breakup Kurt had found a new boyfriend. He was cute, I had to admit, but I wasn't fond of the way the news was brought to my attention. I had been casually checking Facebook, not expecting anything to be new, just taking a break from my assignment. Then Kurt was locking lips with a brunette boy with a slight ski jump in his hair. Overhead of the picture it read:
"Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe are in a relationship."
I felt my nostrils flare as I tried to breathe calmly. That didn't exactly work. My computer had found itself across the room and smashed into about a thousand pieces. That was fine, I needed to get out more anyway.
I had never really gotten over Kurt in the long run, but the pain had lessened to the point where I could look at everyday objects without being reminded of him. I had everything involving our relationship packed in a large box that sat on the top shelf of my closet. Out of reach, but then again so was Kurt.
I'm 18 now, it's been a little over a year since I took a nose dive off the Kurt Hummel Express. It'd been a rough year, having to listen to everything my dad had to say about "manning up" and about how I needed to stop being a girl, but he was right. I need to make him proud. Make him see that I, Blaine Anderson, am a man who knows how to handle situations by himself. Because of my age, I don't require parental consent, I'm vaguely classifying this as my Father's Day gift to him. Now I'll earn the Anderson title, just like Cooper, he, and my grandfather had before me. I'll be jumping into their very large footsteps, the army boot clad Anderson's. That certainly did have a ring to it. I'd do anything to prove to him that I'm not weak like before. Even if that meant dying for my country. I was to enlist in the military. Of course I was nervous, who wouldn't be when face-to-face with the prospect of becoming a soldier.
I had to buck up and suck up if I was going to make him proud, and for this to work out I had to push those thoughts of Kurt Hummel and men in general I suppose, to the back of my mind. Shove them down until they're nothing but specks of dust in my memory. It was simple to convince my father that he was right, that I had just been going through a phase and that I was ready to be a real man. I hadn't seen my father smile at me like that ever before, it pleased me immensely to see it directed toward me, but there was still that voice in my head - screaming that the smile wasn't for me, just for the son that father had always wanted.
-.-.-
It appears that I was made to be a good soldier. I was small, but muscular and athletic. I was fast on my feet and was a quick learner with weapons and hand to hand combat, my boxing after school had helped contribute to that. I was praised by my superiors for living up to my family name. I learned how to raise my voice and be confident, but I had to become hard. It felt almost as if my eyebrows were always furrowed in a squinting angry expression. Some of my friends in basic training were musically inclined and we sang together and pretended to beat out an obnoxious drum solo to make each other laugh. They were some pretty decent guys, but if I hadn't been forced to socialize with them we probably never would've spoken.
-.-.-
It had been a year and I'd just graduated from Basic Training. Now I'm 19 and far from the boy I was a couple years ago. I'm being sent into war soon, to fight for my honor and my country. The only ones to know would be my immediate family and a couple of the guys I graduated with. I remember getting home to see Mom, Dad and Coop standing in the living room with a couple balloons and a cheesy "Welcome Home" banner taped above the couch. It was the closest thing I'd experienced to a birthday party since I was kid, that was one of the best days of my live. I had smiled so much that my cheeks hurt, I'd never gotten so many acknowledgments from everyone. Dad was hugging me and kept clasping my shoulder and shaking me lightly with a bright smile, I couldn't contain my happiness.
Later on in the month I had gotten a letter, asking me to report for duty. I was being sent into a war zone, an actual battleground. Not just training where if you messed up you didn't end up dead, not some fake and safe game of pretend. I was now being thrust into real danger, a real life or death situation where if you fuck up - you get yourself or someone else killed. I had a hard time swallowing the fact, I couldn't sleep knowing that about a week from now I'd be away from everyone I cared about and may not come back. A weird thing happened that last week. Apparently my mother had kept in touch with him, the Kurt Hummel.
How it's allowed for my mother to speak to my ex-boyfriend after he'd broken my heart and left me for New York and Sebastian Smythe, escapes me. But, alas, she just happened to let it still that I was being shipped out in a few days. Unannounced to me, he was in town. That was when Kurt Hummel came quietly and slowly sneaking back into my life.