Sit here with me and tell me your story.
Even if it breaks my heart, let me see your scars,
Beautiful Scars...
From the moment I met Kurt, I knew he was different, SPECIAL. He was in a difficult place, one that often seems impossible to escape from. Even though I didn't know anything about this boy (for that's what he truly was), I knew I wanted to help him. I was able to convince Wes and David to buy him a cup of coffee and just talk to him.
"Are you all gay?" he asked, his voice small, defeated. It made my heart break.
"I am, but these guys have girlfriends," I replied, offering the brunet a smile. Wes and David soon left us alone, both fiddling with our coffee cups. Kurt rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly, sitting quiet in his chair.
Shame will whisper, but we can't listen.
'Cause these are the stories that make us who we are.
And I love who you are…
"Bruises throbbing?" I asked.
The brunet gaped at me, a look of disbelief firmly cemented on his face. "H-how did you know?"
"I've been there. Dalton has a zero-tolerance bullying policy, you know," I replied, my expression turning distant.
"Really? You look so happy now," he commented.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I am now, but I ran from my bullies. Even though I'm safe, I regret not standing up to them," I explained.
Kurt looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure if I could survive a confrontation against my bullies. They'd probably kill me," he said, laughing nervously at the end.
"That's a choice only you can make. You can either run, like me, or you can have courage and stand up to them; refuse to be the victim," I said, offering Kurt a smile.
The brunet returned mine with a small smile of his own. "Thank you, Blaine. It's nice to have someone who understands," he said.
At those words, I knew I would be anything Kurt needed me to be. Whether it be a mentor, a friend, or maybe something more down the line. I was going to help him learn to live again.
Beautiful scars, your beautiful scars,
Reminders of the wounded love that carried us this far
Beautiful scars,
Turning the marks of our pain
Into Beautiful Scars…
"Kurt, I know that is seems really bad now, but it does get better. Sometimes you're left with scars, but they're a part of you now. Think of them as battle scars; a testament to how strong you are. If you ever need anything, give me a call," I said, passing the pale boy a napkin with my number on it.
His smile grew. "Thank you, Blaine. I should probably go. My dad is probably worried," he said with a small laugh.
"I'll walk you to your car," I said, opening the door for him. Kurt smiled and thanked me before walking to his car, waving goodbye.
It would be a few days before I heard from Kurt, but I knew that eventually everything would be ok.
Oh how I love your beautiful scars,
So beautiful, so beautiful.
Beautiful scars.