Lost, Found, and Lost Again...
Dan Humphrey was a decent guy. Everyone thought so—himself, included. Sure, he had made some questionable choices in the past, but what kind of self-respecting, semi- Upper East Sider hasn't? Lying, scheming, manipulating...these things were commonplace in this high society world. Here, the mantra was "adapt or die"; if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen. In other words, it was impossible to orbit (and practically live in) a hostile, dog-eat-dog environment without having to put up a fight from time to time. Dan knew this—everyone did; this was the worst kept secret of the Upper East Side. He also knew that he had no plausible reason to feel so ashamed with himself. Sure, he had made some bad decisions this past year—ok, fine, these past five years—but his intentions were never far from honest. He frequently tried to do the right thing and still made an effort to avoid compromising his Brooklyn-bred morals.
He was one of the good ones. Isn't that what Serena had said? He clearly remembered her sitting with him at the bar some time ago where she had declared this statement as if it were a stone-hard fact. This was after Dan had tried to reunite Blair Waldorf, the girl that he loved, with Chuck Bass, the man that she wanted, in order to secure the former's happiness. Of course, this had happened another lifetime ago. It was only some months after this incident had occurred when Blair had told Dan that she had feelings for him. After almost two years of secretly pining for this woman, hoping that she would eventually return his feelings but never actually believing that this reciprocation would ever come about, Dan had managed to do the unthinkable: capture Blair Waldorf's heart.
However, it had only been a matter of time before she returned to Chuck...
Who was I kidding? Dan solemnly pondered. How could I have been so stupid to believe that she was genuinely over him and that I actually stood a chance?
Above all, he wondered where he went wrong.
Dan tried to see perspective, but couldn't. His grief was still fresh and all-consuming, preventing him from being able to rationalize his situation more thoroughly. For now, all he could do was try to escape.
Dan looked at his airline ticket and breathed a long sigh. He still had a half an hour to kill before boarding. For once, he wished that time would move at a quicker pace...
Blair knew that she was an idiot. Normally, she would scoff at the thought but in this moment, she could not deny it. Well, technically she could have—Blair was the queen of self-denial. Warping logic to her advantage was a specialty of hers as she was capable of taking the simplest of concepts and, at the drop of a hat, turning it into a form a self-contradiction. She had done it before on multiple occasions, the most prominent being when she refused to acknowledge that she had feelings for Dan Humphrey, her best friend's ex-boyfriend. At that point, she didn't want to see it—she didn't want to realize the clear, obvious truth that had, for some time, been staring her in the face. She had wanted to escape and so she had buried herself in a cloak denial and had hoped that her feelings would be stomped out like bugs. The mission was a failure—not even her impressive skills had been able to help her overcome her unwanted feelings. She had loved him, then—and still loved him now. But she screwed it up...and she didn't want to hide anymore.
You never truly realize a good thing until it's gone; Blair just acknowledged this now and felt an overwhelming sense of bitterness at the thought that it took losing him, Dan Humphrey, to come to this sad conclusion.
What happened? Everything was going so well. At least, that is what she thought. Sure, they may not have been the most passionate, fiery couple in the world but he had made her so happy and loved. They were good together. They were a team. There were many obstacles, but they managed to conquer them all. Well, all obstacles, that is, except for the one that counted most.
Dan's loft was empty when Blair arrived. She hoped that he had just gone out for a walk or something and would be back as soon as he cleared his head, but she knew that that this was not the case. He was gone. She was sure of it. His suitcase that he was going to use on his trip to Rome had disappeared from its usual corner. Blair sat on the nearby couch, cupped her face in her hands, and began to sob.
What happened? How did she let everything get so screwed up?