A/N: Here goes my first attempt at a Brittana fic. Who thought the day would come? I've always kept my distance, feeling I could never nail the characters, but I felt compelled to write about dashed dreams and old love affairs. It seemed quite fitting for our pairing. I must preface immediately: this short three part ficlet contains a lot of angst and quite a bit of heartbreak so please stray away if you're not prepared for it.

First off, I haven't really been following too closely with the recent season as I've gotten greatly busy with course work (as most of my current readers know). So, initially I wrote this during the hiatus after the Christmas episode. I had only read certain spoilers which I plugged in and made assumptions. Since then, I was filled in with the recent happenings in the season but decided not to change the world I had created as I personally liked the flow; in that sense it's slightly AU. I jump quite a bit from memory to present time (present time being Santana in the library). Hopefully it's not too confusing.

To all those awaiting Latte Girl, I'm hoping to get a new chapter out shortly. Hang in there.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy these snipets of just plain, honest writing. Here goes nothing! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters nor am I affiliated at all with the show Glee.

Warnings: ANGST (you have been warned, twice) and light profanity.

The Confession: Part 1

I've never been more terrified my entire life. I feel bare and cold, like stepping into a shower, my body shivering as I wait for the water to adjust. Waiting for things to get warmer and brighter, but it doesn't. The cold water just engulfs me, washing away every happy memory, pooling below me before spiraling down the drain. I keep going up and down, my emotions rolling over me in waves. A minute ago I felt that I had every right to feel this way, to feel sorry for myself. But now at this second, I see that I'm just pathetic and lonely. It's all my fault isn't it? For being honest, but not being honest enough. For trying to do the mature thing, but ending up crawling back like an ignorant child. For loving too much, but giving too little love at all…

I left her. Because I loved her too much.

When I tell people, hearing it come out of my mouth makes it sound more stupid each time. At the moment it seemed to make sense. She was always the smart one, I was the fool. I still am the fool. The fool that was too much in love that they fell into a pit of sorrow by their own doing. I broke my own heart. The fault is my own. Now here I am, at 11:34AM in Ekstrom Library on a Friday night… Instead, I could have listened to her and done something with myself. She was the only one who ever showed that she truly cared about me. The only who ever believed in me. The only one who ever sees any good in me, period. No, instead I'm reading some heavy ass accounting book by some man who probably was thinking the same exact thing I am right now when he wrote it:

What the hell am I doing with my life?

I thought I had grown out of this, but I'm still living a lie.

I flick the ink pen out of my hand and watch as it hit the side of the carrol I'm sitting in. I swear these things were built to completely isolate individuals from human existence. I can't find the strength to break free. Instead, I tug out my laptop from my bag, also known as a big ass boulder. When I wiggle it out of it's snug confinements, my white cheer shoes come flying out as well. I don't even bother picking them up. I just roll my eyes at everything they entail. Another detail to my pathetic life.

When the screen lights up to reveal the last webpage I was on, I suddenly remembered why I enclosed myself in this stupid carrol instead of going to the football team's after party. I immediately feel my throat tighten up like it did all during sophomore year at McKinley. It always did whenever I saw her with someone else. Even when I didn't realize I was in love her yet, I got the cold, numbing feeling I have now. It invaded my whole body like a parasite. Draining me. Making me more tired and making me feel older than I truly am.

Who fucking knew that someone changing their social media profile status from "it's complicated" to "in a relationship" would hurt this bad?

I hate that I'm still so interconnected with all of them. As I browsed through picture after picture of the new Glee club on her page, the more I immersed myself in the unfortunate happenings of the events after our breakup. My heart felt rotten as I realized she was slowly starting to move on, while I remained stuck. Stuck in this cold shower of uncertainty.

I stopped at a candid picture of the two of them, courtesy of one Artie Abrams. I wanted to gag. I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw my damn cheer shoes at my computer screen. I wanted to be the cause of such a beautiful smile. I used to be.

It's only fair, isn't it? I deserve this punishment. I basically threw her at him. I reminded her that we were free to see anyone we wanted every time I came back home. Even though we were over I was coming back to Lima more often to see her than ever before. I even thought we were going to be okay. That we could potentially get through this like I had privately promised to myself. By the third weekend I came back, we were laughing again. She's my best friend. I didn't realize how much I've missed it. It was the little things, like driving her home after Cheerios practice on Friday when I would come back or choosing my next shade of nail polish together. She was, after all, the only face I wanted to see in Lima, Ohio. We would gossip and sleep over innocently as we did before. That was until she tried to kiss me again when I came back Thanksgiving. I pressed my hand to her chest to stop her right when her lips barely brushed mine. I can still distinctly remember it. The way they felt… but then I could also remember the way her brow creased and her lips scrunched out of the sadness of rejection. I remember the damage I caused.

It happened right after I tried to rip out Kitty's horrible extensions and told Quinn that we were done until she got her inflated, blonde head out of her pretty ass and broke things off with her professor. I was taking care of Marley. I told her that I was going to make sure she drank every drop of that damn juice box until she stopped rambling that she didn't need two of me nagging her about how laxatives only leads to shit hitting the fan. When Marley's mom finally came her gentle touch tugged me away, lacing our fingers together, which easily diverted my attention. I'm like a moth to a flame when it comes to her. She knows it too. All the tension and hatred I had from earlier slipped away.

We walked together hand-in-hand, neither of us needing to say anything. The only sound was her quiet humming of what was supposed to be Blaine and Marley's duet, which went unsung. It wasn't until I felt her untangle our fingers, leaving just our pinkies linked when I realized we were at our old lockers. Well, hers was still there. Mine was now filled with Sam's textbooks apparently. She smiled at me, that smile she saved for me.

"I know it sucks losing," I say quietly, but as quiet as I am my voice echoed in the empty hallway. I'll always be competitive even if I wasn't the one out on the field or up on the stage. I looked around and laugh lightly, "I'm getting weird déjà vu right now."

She smiled wider as I acknowledged her intended choice of location.

"You know I never care about winning."

"I know."

And then she goes and surprises me.

"Coach Sylvester is helping me with college applications."

It makes me smile. A truly genuine smile and it almost hurts because I haven't smiled like that in such a long time.

"That's fantastic. I know you'll get into every one of them."

"Well, duh. Who wouldn't want me at their school?"

I smile impossibly wider.

"I couldn't imagine who. I'm so proud of you."

"Sam's been helping me too with deciding which ones," she says almost bashfully as she looks at her toes. I of course notice the change. My smile quivers slightly. I may be stupid when it comes to love, but I'm not that stupid. It's pretty obvious that there's something there that I've been avoiding to see. But I'm not going to be the one to tell her what to do. If he wants to he can. But I trust she'll make the smart decision in the end. Well, I can only hope.

I swallow it all down and force myself to reply back, "Yeah? Where does he think you should go?"

"L.A. or New York… he thinks big cities provide the most opportunities."

"And do you agree?"

"Yah. I do. I think that you can be whoever you want to be when you have all the right birds in one basket," I smile a little at her tiny mess up, but don't correct her. "But… I also think there are lots of birds elsewhere too."

A raise a brow curiously.

"I sent in my application to U of L last week."

And she continues to surprise me.

She had a wide grin on her lips and a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Those blue sparkling eyes, asking if this was okay. I didn't know what to say. I know I should have said something. I should have told her how my heart started thrumming three times faster. That I'd start looking around for apartments to live together tonight. That she was a genius and that I didn't know why I didn't think of it myself. That I'd cut down the admission office if they somehow thought she wasn't qualified. That I'd make sure she was qualified before that would even happen. That I was so, so happy… But I didn't say any of that. Instead I said:

"Is that where you really wanna be though, Britt?"

That hopeful gleam immediately started to drain from those blue pools.

"I want to be with you, Santana."

It was the simplicity of the way she said it that made me ache even more…

"I do too. But we've went over this before—"

"I know… that maybe in the future if the timing is right we can be together again. Well, I've been thinking about the future and there's a way we can be together Santana. It doesn't have to be so complicated anymore."

"Non-complicated sounds nice…" I replied tempted by the easiness of it all, loving the sound of a future together. She smiled again, that smile for me.

"You once confessed your love for me in this very spot. And because the timing wasn't right, I couldn't give it back to you. Not fully. After our unofficial break-up I started thinking a lot. And you should thank Sam. He made me realize that even after a year of being a couple I had never confessed my love for you. So, I'm standing here now. I'm in love with you, Santana. And I'm only going to be yours."

That's when she leaned in and I was stupid enough to stop her. Her bottom lip just grazing the top of mine. The small sensation was enough to make me feel like my body was being tickled. She made me feel alive again. I knew she felt me shiver. It was the last time I felt Brittany's lips. Still, how many months later, I don't know why I stopped her. I have no words to explain myself. A few times I've caught myself screaming in my car alone for shutting out such beautiful words. I guess it comes down to me being too much in love with her… so much so that I didn't want to have that power over her. I couldn't let her make her decisions based off of where I was. Especially when she could be in the city, achieving all I know she can.

I was stupid to think it would all be okay, that eventually we would make it. It was my fault… I led her on to believe it. When I pushed her away I remember her eyes immediately watering and her voice cracking when she asked why I had been spending so much time at home if I didn't want us to get back together. She said that I pulled and pushed too hard. That she didn't like how her heart was being played in a constant game of tug-a-war. And she's right. I pushed her too hard and now this afternoon she's changed her stupid fucking status from "it's complicated" to "in a relationship".

I tell myself everyday that my choice was right to make myself feel a little better. I did it because if I told her to go through with it, she'd be doing what I did. She'd be stuck in the library studying something she didn't want to study… I made my choices surrounding her. I chose to be with her when I should have realized at this time in our lives we couldn't do that. And that's why I have to admire Berry for doing what she did, as much as I hate to admire anything she does. She followed her dream and got to where she wanted to be. There's no doubt in my mind that one day her name will be printed on some poster for some Broadway musical on a massive billboard in Times Square. Undoubtedly there will be a gold star after the "y".

I didn't go back until Winter Break. When I was home for Christmas it was the worst… I went to the mall to find some red and black leg warmers for practice as a Christmas gift for myself and I saw their gloved hands intertwined at that one store where they bring in the puppies from the shelter. Brittany took off her left glove to scruff a lab pup's floppy ears and I saw it. It was tiny and hard to define from where I was standing, but the shiny thin band was obvious enough. I felt that numb, cold feeling suck away like a parasite again. I ended up going back to Louisville the day after Christmas, proceeded to get extremely drunk on New Years, and of course drunk dialed her that night. She probably couldn't hear all too well anyways since I was a blubbering mess, but I'm sure she understood.

Brittany always understood.

I tried to ignore the empty feeling in my chest for as long as I could, but it was becoming unbearable. The bitter cold of winter didn't help, the snowy wind biting at my cheeks during practice. Some mornings I wouldn't even get up out of bed to go to class. My stomach would ache in pain. I knew it wasn't from the appalling dining commons food because I hadn't been eating much. I knew I had to get away or my body would start hating me. So when I got a random call from baby porcelain I was a little more than tantalized by the idea of being in the city for a few days. The last time I had been was junior year with Brittany…

However, I had no idea that Her Majesty Fabray was going to be there. Thankfully she ended it with her fifty-year-old professor, but it didn't stop me from poking fun at her for it during my entire stay at the Hummel-Berry residence. It gave me slight satisfaction seeing that infamous scowl and uncomfortable squirm whenever the topic was brought up. Especially since Rachel wasn't any happier when I informed her of the affair. It was the most excitement I had gotten in a while, which is pretty darn depressing. The reason for Berry's intervention was absolutely absurd. I couldn't believe I went through the hassle of airport security just to hear her whine about some show business drama… I gave my five cents on the issue which seemed to satisfy her. After all, she did just want my brutal honesty and harsh humor. So I willingly gave it to her, after I forced her and Kurt to pay for my plane ticket back to Louisville that is.

The best and really only good thing about that small vacation was the night I spent out with Kurt in the city. I never really liked lady boy until I saw the guts it took for him to exchange schools to simply be himself. Ever since I've always secretly admired how brave he is. He took me around NYADA and the theatre district. I was surprised when I found we had a quite a bit to talk about and even when we had nothing to say a comfortable silence blanketed us. That was the thing I realized about him and I… I wanted things at the snap of my finger. Kurt could wait all day long for you to follow. We were opposites who could learn from each other. I followed him willingly and I suddenly realized all the little things I was missing.

As I quietly began to take more in, I began to realize the biggest detail I've overlooked the entire day. Under the neon lights and faint stars, Kurt was a new boy… no a new man. It was unlike seeing him under any spotlight during our now insignificant show choir performances. A look like that comes from someone who's experiencing it all. I never really thought about it before, probably because Rachel's ambitions are always overpowering everyone else, but Kurt has really done something for himself. He came to New York with absolutely nothing, with no real plan whatsoever. Now he's got his second chance at NYADA and is living the starving artist's life in a dinky old apartment.

It's all I ever wanted. But that was something only Brittany knew…

If I could have anyone's bravery, I wished I had Kurt's.

After wandering for some time, we found ourselves in the throng of the Village or something like that… I wasn't paying too close attention to the signs, thinking that Kurt knew where he was going. Apparently, I assumed wrong and I berated him heavily for it. We asked a pair of men how to get back to our apartment and they enthusiastically gave us directions; almost too enthusiastically. One was being way too friendly with Kurt for my liking. Between the both of us, I was the one with thicker skin. Not to mention I still kept at least one razor blade hidden in my hair at all times. But they ended up pointing us to the right path and things started looking more familiar. Before we could get far they asked us if we liked karaoke. Of course Kurt would ask for directions from the two gayest men who happened to be going to a karaoke bar…

So there I was, stuck on a barstool stirring Kurt's diet coke with one hand and holding my gin and tonic with the other while I watched him belt out a Whitney classic with some stranger. He was having a good time and the couple we came with kindly got my alcoholic beverage and refused to take my money when I tried to pay them back. I decided staying out a little late wouldn't hurt anyone, especially when I watched Kurt interacting with some of the admirers he had already attracted. He just seemed so alive. I couldn't bring myself to leave. Besides, I'm sure Rachel would love the alone girl talk with Quinn… I watched as the crowd danced and sang to Kurt's perfectly pitched voice. As I thought of dancing and the city, my mind slowly drifted off to Brittany. What a scene it would be to see her dancing in an environment like this. Well, subtracting all the gay men. I continued to notice the lack of females in the room until the tall, slender brunette bartender asked if I wanted another gin and tonic. I said I was fine, but she quickly made another for me.

"It's on the house," she said with a very obviously flirtatious grin on her lips.

I awkwardly smiled back at her before turning my attention to the stage. I looked around me… why in the world would a lesbian be working at a gay bar? I turned back around and asked her the very question curiously. She laughed. She was more attractive, when she laughed.

"So creepy guys don't hit on me and skanky chicks don't ask for my number."

I pursed my lips and nodded. She had a very valid point and I took note of it. I noticed how she looked me up and down, but I mean who wouldn't. I am fucking hot. But for some reason it felt wrong. It was probably because only seconds ago I was thinking about the blonde who danced away with my heart. I dropped my smile and looked away.

"But beautiful women don't fall on that list, sweetheart," she told me confidently before walking off to attend to someone else calling for her attention.

"She could have come up with a better line than that," I mumbled to myself, rolling my eyes.

"A better line than what?" Kurt asked coming out of nowhere.

I shook my head to tell him to forget about it and then proceeded to mock how he's lost his touch with spontaneous song bursting. The night wore on and Kurt somehow managed to get me up on the stage to sing a duet with him. He must have taken advantage of all the alcohol running through my veins. The flirty bartender had given me enough free gin and tonics to make me feel a little woozy and my eyes a little prickly with tears by the time we hailed a cab to go home. Once we clambered in, all the pressure inside me burst open like a balloon attached to a water hose. I cried into Kurt's tailor designed suit the entire drive back. By the time we got out of the car and Kurt paid the fee, my eyes were practically welled shut.

"I miss her so much," I blubbered one last time as we sat on the snowy steps of Kurt's apartment building. Well, Kurt was sitting, I was sprawled out lewdly. The cold was helping a little with soothing my enflamed cheeks.

"I know, honey. I know that she misses you too. You know what else I know?"

I made an ugly, snotty sound instead of responding.

"That there's nothing wrong with admitting you were wrong. Some really smart people thought that originally we were creatures with multiple legs and arms. We were split in half because God was punishing us for loving ourselves too much."

"What the fuck kind of messed up riddle is this?" I asked still slightly drunk.

Kurt sighed. When I looked back to him, I saw how sad his eyes look. I smacked myself mentally because I remembered I wasn't the only one who was dealing with recent heartbreak.

"The story says that humans have been trying to find their severed halves ever since. Only true love has the capability of leading us to the person that will mend our souls together and complete us. I believe that there is a soul mate out there in the world for everyone. If me and the world are right, she'll give you a second chance."

It was a beautiful story. It definitely shut me up for the rest of the night.

Luckily, I wasn't drunk enough to forget his words. In fact, my intoxication seemed to amplify the memory, engraining it into my mind permanently. I want to believe it desperately because it is the only thing I have left to hold on to.