I have already done a letter similar to this in two other fandoms ( High School Musical and Suite Life Series) but to tell you the truth this one is definitely my favourite.

This one-shot follows canon up to 3x09 expect that Kurt and Blaine are the same age. Also, I am assuming that by the time Kurt and Blaine decide to get married it is legal for everyone to do so. Because come on, it's the 21st century people, love is love.

Do you remember when we were young and in love? The days when no matter what happened we were going to get through it, just because we had each other. The days when we just didn't give a damn what other people thought about us. The days when nobody could touch us, touch what we had. We were convinced that once we got to New York we ( well more you then me) were going to take the place by a storm and then settle down to have a comfortable, fairy-tale life, until we both died of old age. Together until the end. Well, obviously we were wrong. But I miss those days, Kurt . The days when everything was so much simpler. Life gets way more complicated once you are forced into the real world. But that does not mean that after we came down from the clouds I did not still feel the same about you as I did when we were young. I loved you then and I still love you now. I don't think I will ever stop loving you.

I remember the first time I realized that I liked you more then a friend. The Warblers were in the middle of a rather heated, and admittedly ridiculous, argument about our wardrobe when out of the blue you were standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed in the most fashionable funeral attire I think I have ever seen, on the verge of tear. And suddenly the color of the piping on our jackets seemed so silly, so trivial.

I remember asking you what was wrong and expressing my condolences when you announced that Pavarotti was dead, but I know that my mouth was on autopilot because my mind had gone temporarily numb. Despite spending ample amounts of time with you months prior to that day, I had never noticed just how beautiful you were- how much you looked like an angel. And then you began to sing and I was a goner. I couldn't believe that you had been right there, in front of me, this entire time or that just two and a half weeks earlier I had actually contemplated being with Rachel Berry over you! I was so mesmerized that I actually stopped harmonizing in the background and stared, stared at you as you poured your heart and soul into your singing. To this day that is still one of my favourite performances of yours.

And then three days later I gathered enough courage to actually tell you how I felt and kiss you. And as cheesy and cliché as what I told you that day must have sounded, I meant every word of it. You move me Kurt, in ways I can't even begin to describe. That first kiss was more magical then I could have ever imagined- and the ones that followed were even better. For a guy who claimed to have no experience in the kissing department and the sex appeal of a baby penguin, you sure blew my mind!

And what about the first time we made love? Now, I know that you have already forgiven me for my behaviour the night before ( and regrettably a couple of times after that) but once again I feel the need to express how deeply ashamed I am of what I did. Nobody should be forced to make the decision you made that night - forced to ward off advances from someone they love because they were to drunk and stupid to respect that sex ( in particular the first time) is something special, something meaningful.

You have no idea how relieved, and slightly overwhelmed, I felt when you forgave me after Opening Night of West Side Story. And when you actually suggested we skip the after party and properly lose our virginities together, I was beyond shocked. I could not believe that you still wanted to be with me after all that I had put you through. But, of course, I never would have told you that. Because who knows, maybe you would have changed your mind- and I couldn't have had that, now could I?

That ride from McKinley to my house was probably one of the longest fifteen minutes of my life. I remember trying to recall all those movies I had watched , pamphlets I had read, conversations I had had, and still feeling completely clueless and kind of foolish. I may have came off as a confident know-it-all when we talked about sex, but trust me, I had absolutely no idea what to do or even how to begin.

I remember how when we finally got back to my house and went up to my room, we just sat on the edge of the bed and stared at each other for a good ten minutes. And then, not being able to stand the awkwardness any longer, I leaned over and gave you a big passionate kiss. And surprisingly, everything just sort of fell into place after that. It was like some instinctive switch was turned on and we both suddenly knew exactly what to do- what to touch. Of course, looking back and comparing to later experiences, our first time wasn't as wonderful as I perceived it to be. But, in the that moment, fuelled by my love for you and heightened by the emotional state your acceptance of my earlier apology had put me in, it was an intense moment that I will never forget.

You cried afterwards. And my first thought was that I had done something wrong and that despite being the one who suggested we do this, you now felt like it was a mistake. I must have shown my worry on my face, because you put on a weak smile and assured me that you were not crying because of anything I had done. You were just overwhelmed, that was all. It was beginning to sink in that you were no longer a child. Somewhere along the way you had crossed the line into adulthood and it scared you. I gently brushed your tears away, but didn't say anything. I think that if I would have openly admitted that growing up scared me too, I would have cried with you. And crying in front of you at that moment would have made me feel worse then I already did. So I just listened as you confessed all your worries and tried to encourage you as best as I could. Whether I was really any help or not I have no idea. But you did stop crying and the next day we walked hand and hand into to McKinley, our heads held up high. No matter where life was going to take us, nothing was going to break us apart. We were in it for the long haul.

I remember how on our wedding day you were so nervous about being the center of attention that you were ready to cancel the wedding and just get eloped . Of course, I found this to be rather adorable. And seeing as you had already spend months planning the event and everyone had flown in from all parts of the country to see us exchange vows, eloping was not really an option. Still, it took Finn and I a couple of hours to actually calm you down and get you to agree that going through with this ceremony was the best thing for everyone involved. But to tell you the truth, I think I was just as - if not more- nervous then you were. I don't know if you noticed, but I had a big gash on the side of my neck. When I was shaving that morning I was shaking so much that I actually cut myself. And not just a little nick, that was quite a deep cut. And when I just stood there and stared at myself in the mirror, Wes - who was getting ready right beside me- poured me the biggest shot of vodka I think I have ever seen. And while I pounded back my drink he dumped like half the bottle of aftershave on my cut. Okay, not half the bottle. But a hell of a lot of that stuff. And it burnt like a son of a bitch.

But, we both somehow made it through that day. And we made it through the first couple of years. Although sometimes I don't know how. It seemed like everything that could go wrong did. And all we did was fight and have sex. It was like we either really hated each other or really loved it each other . There was nothing in between. And sometimes I wondered why I married you in the first place. But of course, there were those special moments. Moments that reminded me that I truly did love you.

Like the day you first hinted that you thought we were ready to start the adoption process, ready to start of family of our own. We were at our ten year high school reunion which was being held at Quinn and Anthony's house. Somehow, I ended up being in charge of entertaining the children- a feat that I, admittedly, had way to much fun doing. I remember that at one point you were starting at me, the look on your face similar to the one you had the first time we went to see Wicked on Broadway. That look confused me. Nothing spectacular was going on- I was just sitting crossed legged on the grass, playing Disney songs on the guitar while children danced about me, singing and laughing and demanded me to " play it again". But something about that scene must have plucked at one of your heart strings because halfway through " Under the Sea" you stalked over to me, leaned over and whispered into my ear that you thought I would make an amazing father someday. And much to the dismay of several young children, I momentarily forgot how the song went.

But I also remember the day that I thought that it was really over. It was about a three months before we would finally sign the papers to adopt Harmony and you had just learned that your father was once again in the hospital because of his heart. And this time he was not expected to live. I called the Principal of the school I was teaching at and somehow convinced him to give me a week off. Then we packed an overnight bag and were on the next plane headed for Ohio . You were silent the whole flight there - which is understandable. When we arrived at the hospital we were to late and you broke down in Carole's arms. And I just stood in the doorway of the small hospital room and watched. The whole situation seemed surreal to me. And I began to image what it would be like in thirty or forty years when I died and you and our child cried in each other arms over my body. The thought scared the shit out of me. Funny, I never considered the idea that it would be me crying over your body instead of the other way around.

That night we sat up in bed in the guest room of the house that you grew up in and talked. But talking soon became shouting once you decided that the best thing to do was to move back home and stay with your step-mother for awhile. I don't really know why I was so determined to stay in New York. It wasn't like that was the only city in the country that had schools that taught Music. But even though I was already married and soon to be a father I was still very young. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was still trying to live out " our" teenage fantasies, hoping that one day one of us would make it big . And you had apparently already moved on.

Once it was clear to you that I was not willing to drop my life in New York and move across the country with you, I was kicked out of the room and forced to spend the night on the hide-away bed in the living room. The next morning you told me that I needed to do some serious growing up or else you were going to leave me. I was at a lost of what to say or even feel. Over the first couple of years you had told me that you were going to leave me several times. But when you said it that morning there was a seriousness to your voice that was frightening. I spent the remainder of the day trying to figure out how I was going to quite my job at Richter High and debating whether I wanted to call in some favours and get a position at Dalton or apply for a job at McKinley. Because as ludicrous and difficult as dropping everything I had worked so hard to achieve and relocating to Ohio would have been, losing you would have been far worse. And so by supper time I was on the fast track to becoming a changed man. But then you apologized for acting so stupid and told me that it was selfish of you to make me grow up. Especially when you hadn't really grown-up yourself.

And then we got our daughter- our beautiful Harmony. And although we still fought, the world did not just revolve around the two of us anymore. And before we knew it we had three kids and owned a youth centre where we spent our days giving music lessons to inner city kids. It was not the life we had envisioned when we were eighteen- it was one that was much better.

I remember how just last week you confessed to me that you thought that at fifty-three we were way to young to be grandparents. I shook my head at you as I looked down at the picture of our granddaughter that Harmony and Eric had sent to us. At five months old, little Hailey Robson looked very much like her mother . And I could not help but laugh when you mumbled that they were obviously not old enough to be parents. Never mind the fact that the majority of our friends - including your step bother- had had children at their age and they all turned out fine. When I pointed this out, you smiled and said that I was right. We should not worry about these things so much. 'I might as well be thankful for what I have and be happy that I am so blessed. You never know when it can all be yanked from underneath you.' But none of us every imagined that your words would so suddenly have so much meaning.

I know that if you were here with me right now you would probably be quite mad at me. You would tell me that I need to get over it and move on. And one day I will, but not today. Today I am going to actually allow myself to grieve . I am not going to just stand by and watch while those around me open up and become consumed by their emotions. I am going to cry. Cry until I can not cry anymore. And then I am going to get up, dust myself off and take the next step on my journey. Because although I may not have grown old with you, we were together until the end. And I will always remember that.

As always, reviews would totally make my day.