I refuse to accept a reality in which Ross didn't learn how to play Blank Space because a certain brunette was constantly singing along to all of 1989. So join me in my misery.

She was too damn cute most of the time. Whether it was bouncing around with Raini, scratching Pixie's ears and cooing to her softly, or the look on her face she had when she was tweeting, it kind of killed him how cute she was. There was one exception to that rule, however, and it revolved around a recently released CD and her absolute obsession with it.

It wasn't that he disliked Taylor Swift. The girl wrote good songs, and she was hot. What he really disliked was hearing Taylor Swift blasting at 6:30am, when no human should be as awake or as peppy as his co-star tended to be. He particularly disliked it when he found out that the song he was listening to was not, in fact, referencing Starbucks lovers, as he most definitely was, but ex-lovers. He glared into the white lid of his own coincidental Starbucks upon being corrected on those particular lyrics.

"Really, Ross? Starbucks lovers? Who even has such a thing?"

She was lucky she was cuddling with Pixie while getting her hair done, because the cuteness of that situation negated the annoyance he was currently feeling toward the blaring of the decidedly less funny song.

Going to be forever or go down in flames, huh? He could think of a few things that could go the same way. He'd written a few things about that himself.

He kind of missed when Starbucks cups came with thought pieces on them. He could have used a bit of divine intervention and advice.

It wasn't even two hours later before he heard the song again. Backed, of course, by the irritatingly annoying brunette. It was irritating that she was singing so loudly, irritating that she was still so cute while she did it, and especially irritating that her stupid boyfriend was staring at her on set. He wouldn't mind seeing a few things go down in flames.

The whole cast and crew seemed to be singing the damn song. It really wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't see her making huge eyes at him every time they sang, hoping he would join in. Which he wasn't, on principle.

The fact that he wasn't going to sing along was especially annoying to him when he had some down time on set a few weeks later. He had grabbed his guitar and was playing around with some chords, strumming absentmindedly before he realized where they had come from. And then he thought of her, and the face she would make if he could play it for her while she sang. The rest of his break was spent looking up the chords to the rest of the song and learning it. It would make a pretty good surprise for her one afternoon.

But that afternoon didn't come. He met someone, and that someone was good. She helped him forget and be happy, which wasn't easy while life was changing. He needed to move on, to forget the girl who was so close and yet out of reach. And so that was what he did. He had a blank space, and he let her fill it.

He wasn't sure he was ready to write it in anything but pencil, though.

And so here he was, eight months later, on stage in Georgia and staring out into the crowd. There was a girl whose floral skirt and dark curls tugged at his heart a little too much tonight. He was killing time in between songs, and while he sang, his fingers found frets that he wasn't quite aware of. "So it's gonna be forever, or it's gonna go down in flames, you can tell me when it's over if the high was worth the pain…" He smiled to himself as he thought of the girl who would always come to mind when he heard this song. "Got a long list of Starbucks lovers… Right?!"

No matter how long, no matter who else was in the picture… He would always have a blank space where he'd gladly write her name.

It was four years later. He wasn't sure if he was three years early or seven years late, but he was here this time. He was here, screaming the loudest, clapping the hardest, and he had a giant bouquet of roses on the seat next to him. He had done a lot of growing up since the year he had tried to find himself. He wasn't sure he deserved to be here, but he wasn't going to miss making up for lost time. A lot of mistakes had been made. But, he was ready to take a chance. Another blonde singer had said long ago that there were two ways this could go. He was betting on the way he'd already written a song about. Specifically about her.

The black cap and gown came bounding toward him, waving her diploma in the air. The smile on her face was infectious, and he was mirroring it exactly. He caught her in his arms, lifting her up slightly in the process. And it was when she pulled back slightly to find his face in front of hers that he look his chance. For the first time in five years, he kissed her. An "I'm sorry this took so long," "I love you and I've loved you since I was 15," "I'm so proud of you for graduating," kiss all wrapped up in one. It was a damned clichéd movie scene, but the look on her face told him that it certainly wasn't going down in flames.

"Finally," she breathed.

Her smile seemed to write her name on the blank space in his heart in permanent ink. But he was in the habit of being honest with himself these days, particularly concerning her. It may have been a blank space, but it always had her name on it. And it always would.