That day in the clearing
He emerged from the side of the forest, walking through the last few trees. He stopped for a moment, taking in the memories before I watched him walk across the clearing, the long, dewy grass soaking the ends of his jeans. He took the same path we did when we last came here, when we held hands, laughed and did whatever we wanted to because there was no one there to stop us. He reached the centre and came to a halt, looking around - looking at me, yet seeing nothing but the scenery beyond.
It was the moment that he couldn't hide his sorrows any longer. The sunlight caught his tears, making them shine silver. He was so beautiful, even when he cried. Blaine had always been the strong one. I ran over to him, cupped his face in a hand he couldn't feel. He couldn't see the tears building up in my eyes. He sank to the floor and cried into his knees, letting everything out for the first time. I sat down beside him, but made no effort to comfort him. What's the use when he didn't even know I was there? I had never wanted to hold him in my arms more.
All I could do was sit. Sit and watch the person I love most in the world destroy themselves. Everyone will tell him to be optimistic. They will tell him that I will turn up soon but, when the time comes, they will say that I am now at peace. But how could I be peaceful now I've seen him like this, seen what I have caused by not being there. I wiped the tears off my own cheeks, wishing that I could be taking away Blaine's instead.
He stood up slowly and moved to the side of the clearing, his feet leaving a trail in the long grass. I followed him at a distance, watched him kneel down. His hands scraped away at the hard soil. It took him a while to get all the debris out. All my questions were answered when he took a single flower bulb from his coat pocket and placed it in his newly dug pit before submerging it beneath the soil.
He looked down at his hands, not just covered in mud. He took a tissue and wrapped it around the cuts. The sharp stones had made some deep scratches in his hands, but it seemed that the pain wasn't as bad as the pain in his heart.
I shook my head, my tears falling fast. How could I watch him suffer like this.
"Oh, Blaine." My voice was cracking.
His head turned sharply at the sound of my voice, frantically searching for something in my direction. He jumped up and started to run towards me.
"Kurt? Kurt!"
"Blaine!"
I held out my arms for him to embrace me but he didn't fall into them. Instead he stopped inches in front of me, his face screwed up with pain and sorrow.
"Kurt!" he was screaming at the top of his voice, calling my name, hoping and praying for a response, scanning the forest line for something moving, something that could help him find me.
No matter how hard I tried, he didn't see me. Didn't hear me.
Peace doesn't always come in death. It doesn't always come in life either. When you are in love, that special person will never leave your heart. They will always watch you and try to help you, no matter where they are and what they are doing. Dead or alive.
Blaine stumbled across my body as he left the woods that day. Crumpled, torn and pretty much destroyed, yet he still loved me. Despite the doctors telling him I had been dead for days, he told anyone that would listen that he still swears by his life he heard my voice that day…
That day in the clearing.