Warning: This contains unresolved Klaingst! If you're in a happy mood and prefer to stay that way, perhaps you shouldn't read this!

If you're still here, enjoy!


How could Kurt do this? After all they'd been through together. The two had cried on each other's shoulder a fair number of times. Blaine was there when Kurt got coffee on his designer jeans. When Karofsky threatened to kill him. He'd even been to Kurt's mother's grave, and sat there as Kurt poured his heart out for her. He thought they were close enough, special enough to be forever. Blaine thought he meant something to Kurt.

But hadn't Blaine always gotten it wrong in his head? He'd thought that his father would accept his sexuality, that things would get better in high school, and that going to a dance with another boy wouldn't attract unwanted attention. But he'd really thought that Kurt loved him back. Kurt had told him so back in The Lima Bean months ago. But hadn't Kurt hesitated just a bit before saying he loved Blaine back? Now that Blaine thought about it, it had sounded rushed and forced. Kurt didn't love him. If he did, Blaine wouldn't have found him doing that.

He'd been stupid. People as perfect as Kurt, well, as perfect as Blaine had thought Kurt was, didn't exist. Sure, Kurt was exquisitely beautiful, with the voice of an angel and a great sense of humor, but none of that mattered since he evidently had no compassion at all. Blaine was sure now that no one had both beauty and kindness.

If Kurt didn't want Blaine, he could have just told him. Sure, it would have hurt, like someone had torn his heart out and stomped on it. But now, seeing that Kurt didn't even care enough to break up with him first, he had lit Blaine's heart on fire too.

But maybe it wasn't Kurt's fault at all. Was Blaine just that terrible, that no one could love him? His family didn't love him. Hell, Blaine didn't even love himself anymore. So why should Kurt?

There had something off with Blaine, some sort of defect. He needed to accept that he wasn't going to have love in his life. He could live without it. Sure, there would always that empty part of him, but he could just push it to the back of his mind like he did with the other bad feelings. It was like pushing dirty clothes to the back of a closet. He knew that one day he would push too many thoughts back there and they'd come crashing right in front of him, forcing him to think about them all at once. But it was easier now to just keep hiding them. Perhaps he'd be numb enough by the time that they all fell down that it wouldn't matter.


I'm sorry! I wrote this while I was annoyed last night, and I'm not sure if it's any good at all. I was trying to write something else but this came out instead. It made me super angsty... But regardless, I'd absolutely love to know what you think!