Click.
Facebook is, as that one movie says, a place where friends can check out other friend's profiles, see who is interested in whom.
Kurt Hummel is not my friend.
Kurt Hummel is not interested in me.
He never will be.
Click.
Profiles have information on them.
Mine says I'm single.
Azimio sends me the same message two or three times a week. "Bro, tap a chick once in a while. I'm sick of seeing single written on your page. At least tell me you're interested in someone."
I'm interested in someone.
His interested in says men.
I'm a man.
His relationship status says in a relationship with Blaine Anderson.
I am not Blaine Anderson.
Click.
Pictures on Facebook are always the same.
They are pictures of couples looking into each other's eyes.
They are pictures of friends laughing, falling over each other on someone's couch at a party.
They are pictures of the people you love.
I am in one picture with Kurt Hummel.
In this picture, I am in the background. So far away, only I could notice that I was there.
Kurt Hummel would not notice. This wasn't even a picture he uploaded himself.
Click.
Kurt Hummel uploads pictures every week.
Click.
'Me and Blaine at six flags!'
I would be able to go on rides that that hobbit wouldn't be able to go on.
I could take Kurt on them with me.
Click.
'Blaine and I at the Lima Bean! First double date ftw.'
I'm friends with Mercedes boyfriend.
I could've been sitting at that table with them, if Kurt would have had me.
I could have held his hand under the table. If he'd have let me.
Click.
'Blaine's first day at McKinley!'
I was always at McKinley.
I would have taken a picture with Kurt anyway.
I wouldn't have minded tucking my hand into Kurt's back pocket, instead standing at a distance and smiling arrogantly.
But I am not Blaine Anderson. It is not my first day at McKinley.
I wish it was.
If it was, maybe I could have been standing next to Kurt.
Maybe I wouldn't be a reformed bully that Kurt didn't think of anymore.
Maybe I wouldn't be the boy Kurt once in a while smiles at, now that I've apologized.
Maybe I wouldn't have ever bullied him.
Maybe I would have gotten his attention by singing Teenage Dream. Maybe I could have taken care of him when he needed care.
Maybe I would have told him he was the one for me. Told him I loved him. Become his first boyfriend.
Maybe I would have gone to six flags with him. Gone on double dates with Mercedes and her boyfriend.
Maybe I would have had a picture with him on my first day at school.
Maybe, just maybe, I would have had Kurt's love.
But I am not Blaine Anderson.
I am Dave Karofsky.
Click.