I have lots of updates to do, but wanted to write a short drabble based on the spoilers for Born This Way/Rumours and beyond. This might stay as a sad one shot or I might keep going.

Let me know if you like it!

Today was the worst day of my life.

I broke my nose. I broke my heart.

I'm not sure which one is worse.

The pain feels unbearable; I thought I'd been through pain. Daily slushy facials? Check. Abandoned by my mother? Check. Boy troubles worth of an Emmy nominated soap opera? Check. Also, when I was seven years old I broke my right arm during a particularly horrific ballet recital. I didn't even cry and I still managed to collect my trophy (first place, naturally) before my dads took me to ER and then put in place plans to sue the organisers.

So, like I say, I've done pain.

At first, they didn't think it was broken. I was happy to crash into him, feel the weight of him again, just for a second, that I didn't make a sound. As I sat, huddled on the floor, my nose was throbbing, all my body could focus on was the fact that he rushed to my side; his face a picture of concern and worry. I thought that he'd take me in his arms and kiss me and somehow that would heal my nose and make the pain go away. That somehow the bump to my nose that he inflicted would erase all the bruises I administered to our relationship.

But he didn't. So now I'm sitting at home, trying to put down the mirror and avoid staring at the green shimmer of bruises that eclipse my face and that tape that clings to it, trying to keep everything together.

Confidence. I've always had confidence. I hear people make remarks; hear them rip to shreds my outfits, my talent, my face, my nose. I didn't care.

Yet today, when I stood in front of Glee, exposing my wounds (to them my nose, to me my heart) and listened as Santana repeat the same insults, all I could notice that he didn't even flinch. Didn't even almost stand up, didn't even grimace, and didn't even catch my eye and attempt to soothe the situation with an eye roll or a sympathetic shrug. Instead, he defended himself. Told Santana that he liked himself, even made a little joke at my expense about he had no flaws apart from almost killing Rachel. His girlfriend rubbed the edge of his shoulder, never quite as willing to verbalise her support for him as I was.

She's prettier than me. She's always been prettier me, I knew that. But I always thought deep down that he loved me anyway. I thought that maybe he even still loved me. Just a little.

He sat there and saw me suffer and said nothing.

That's when my heart started to break. This, I thought, will the day I remember forever.

The day I realise that Finn Hudson never really loved me at all.

Sorry for leaving it on a sad note!

If you enjoyed/think I should continue, please review.