Dear Kurt,
I know you've been ignoring my calls, my e-mails, my texts, and even my letters. So I decided to write one last letter. Because I think we deserve it.
Do you remember that day when we danced in your living room? You know the time I'm talking about. Your dad was at work, Carole was out with friends, and Finn was with Rachel. We played The Smiths (you said you hated them, but I know you love them) and slow danced. Just us. My hand on your waist, your hand on my shoulder. Everything was quiet. So much was said with so few words.
Your college acceptance letter was on the coffee table. You were going to New York while I was in Ohio.
You said nothing would tear us apart. That we'd wait for each other, because we loved each other that much. Because we were going to get married, and have kids. We would be with each other the rest of our lives.
Then, we finally did it. We made love. And you know how much I hate that term, because it sounds like something you hear in The Notebook or something. Just so cheesy. But that was the only way to describe it. Nothing hot and heavy. Just gentle kisses, and touches. Love.
But now you've been in New York for seven months, since August. And I haven't gotten anything from you since Christmas. I've missed you so much. Your touch. Your taste. Your everything. I just want it so badly, and I can't help but realize that you don't want anything of mine. It stings, but I just have to accept that you've moved on.
You probably won't even read this, let alone write back. But I just want you to know that you were (no, are) my everything. And I will never forget you. You were my first and my only.
Maybe we'll meet again someday. Who knows? All I know is that you were the boy who had sea glass eyes. The boy I met on the staircase. The boy I wanted to marry.
"My heart stops when you look at me, just one touch. Now baby I believe this is real. Let's run away and don't even look back."
Forever yours,
Blaine