At the hospital, things were strange. One moment, Kurt would be anxious and pacing while waiting for more news as his father still lay motionless in his bed, unaware of all the people making a fuss around him. The next, he was silent, gripping his father's hand, squeezing it, and pleading with the congressman to open his eyes. Of course, Burt did nothing of the sort. According to Kurt, he did things on his own terms, which would make Blaine smile if it weren't for such dire circumstances.
"Blaine," Kurt said, pulling Blaine out of his train of thought. "I'm going to get us some coffee. Medium drip?"
"I can do it so you don't have to leave your dad," Blaine offered kindly, rising to his feet.
"Actually, I need a break for my own sanity. People can remain in a coma for weeks or even years. I've been in that room for hours waiting for something, anything to change, and it hasn't. I just need a break from this sterile and depressing room. Just text or call if something starts beeping or blaring and it will be fine," Kurt said with a small smile as he walked out of the room. "I'll be right back." Kurt exited the room quickly, leaving Blaine all alone with a man, who in normal circumstances would be a very intimidating person to speak to. He sunk back down in his uncomfortable, wooden chair and sighed heavily.
Kurt had shared quite a few stories about his father over the last few days, both back at his home and here in the hospital room. Stories of Mr. Hummel storming into the Principal's office and demanding that he did something about the kid that kept bullying his son. Stories of his father being a fairly tough man who loved Deadliest Catch and played football all through high school and Jr. College. Stories about him standing up to Finn when he used the word faggy in his house. There was the time that Burt told a homophobic customer he could leave after he made a horrible comment about Kurt. That story ended with Burt warning the man never to return while holding a tire iron in his hand. Nobody messed with Burt Hummel or his family.
However, Kurt told him about another side of Burt Hummel that not everybody knew. He was the man who watched 'The Sound of Music' with his son and drove him to ballet lessons after Elizabeth passed away. He was the same guy who danced the 'Single Ladies' dance for Kurt as a graduation gift. He ran for congress after Kurt told him of his dreams of marriage equality in Ohio. He'd bought Kurt a plane ticket to New York and encouraged him to move there even though he knew that Kurt probably wouldn't be back much. He sent Kurt to a private school instead of going on his honeymoon with Carole. Burt Hummel was what he wished his father was; genuine, compassionate, and supportive. Kurt said that he could talk to him about anything. Maybe, Blaine thought, he could talk to him too. That wasn't crazy, right?
Blaine sat in the corner of the room, the steady beeps from the monitor distracting him from the thoughts swirling in his brain. He had been in this same position twice before, although the first heart attack his father suffered was caught early, and he recovered quickly. The second caused a lot more damage. His father was in a coma for several days, and recovery had taken him months, even though his father insisted on going back to work before the doctors recommended it was safe for his return. Blaine sat up in the chair and just began talking to the man in the hospital bed.
"Hey, Mr. Hummel. I'm Blaine. I work with Kurt at Anderson Advertising, and I have to say that you have an amazing son. He's intelligent, creative, witty, compassionate, and courageous. He's just…He's everything, Mr. Hummel," Blaine rambled. "You raised an amazing man. I'm so glad I met him, that I know him. Just in this short time, he's made my life better, not just at work, but in everything. I just,- I love him, even though I'm not sure that he wants to hear those words from me. God, the trouble it would cause if I said them back at the office, or even if I said them to your son."
Blaine sighed as the monitor continued to beep and Burt lay still in his bed, exactly as he had the last two days. Well, except for Burt's twitching finger. Blaine continued to spill his heart out to a stranger, unaware that things were about to get even more confusing for them all.
"Oh my God, Blaine. What happened? He's awake? When? I was gone maybe fifteen minutes! Will they let me back there? What the hell is going on?" Kurt rambled and ranted to Blaine in the ICU waiting room as the nurses and doctors examined and tended to Mr. Hummel.
Blaine didn't have a clue how to answer the millions of questions spewing from Kurt right now. He had just been sitting there, sharing things that he'd never say to an ordinary stranger, let alone the father of the man he loved, when he heard grunting and realized that Burt Hummel was no longer sleeping. He quickly hit the call button to alert a nurse. She responded by shooing him out of the room abruptly. Now, he was standing in front of Kurt with no real way of knowing how to answer any of the questions that Kurt was firing off at him.
"I don't know. One minute, he was lying there peacefully, and the next, his eyes were opened and he was trying to figure out who I was, the best I can figure," Blaine chuckled.
Blaine didn't have a chance to get anything else out because Kurt practically launched himself into his arms. "He's ok, Blaine. He's going to be ok," Kurt sobbed.
The last day and a half had been a blur, and now things were finally starting to calm back down, except that Blaine had to fly back to New York tomorrow. Kurt was going to stay a little longer as he helped his dad recover and make sense of everything that happened over the last few days.
It was Blaine who was finally able to convince Kurt that he should go home and get some rest and prepare things back at the house for when Burt was able to return. Apparently, both Burt and Carole were about to go crazy with the way Kurt was fussing over his dad, not letting him add salt to the tasteless food, and asking him if he needed anything every five minutes. Blaine understood. He had been the same way when it was his father in a hospital bed. At the same time, he could tell that nobody was going to be able to be at peace until they let each other breathe and take a break from one another.
Now, they were together at the Hummel home, Kurt washing dishes after furiously prepping meals that Carole and Burt could freeze and reheat on days where Burt had physical therapy or Carole didn't have time to make a heart-healthy meal, and Blaine was strumming the guitar and jotting down the notes he was playing on a piece of sheet music, only to scribble it out moments later and replace it with something else. Kurt finished towel drying the stockpot and returned it to its place in the cabinet and sat at the table across from Blaine. "Is that the new jingle?"
Blaine shook his head. "It was supposed to be, but it kinda got personal. The company loved the ad campaign with "The Shape of You," but I don't think it would work for the whole line. I want something a little more inspiring. I think that I've got the melody, although I'll have to clean it up. As I said, the lyrics drifted off-topic, I guess. I couldn't help it. The words just poured out, and nothing else fits with the melody. The ad only has to be thirty seconds. The song I've got is longer, and even though it got away from me, I might be able to salvage it."
"Would you play it for me?" Kurt asked.
Blaine shook his head reluctantly. "I told you, it got personal, I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Blaine. I'm a writer. I could help you," Kurt coaxed. "Please. I bet it's brilliant."
"Ok," Blaine nodded, biting his lip. He started strumming the melody on his guitar and opened his mouth to sing the words he had only finished writing a few moments ago.
.
Your canvas is your skin, you paint it once again
Trying to create your perfect masterpiece
Trying to be a porcelain doll, you hide every flaw
Every wrinkle, every crease
.
With your brush in hand, you take command
To conceal the spots on your complexion
Then a tear starts to fall, spoiling it all
Revealing all your imperfections
But what I've come to find
.
The leaning tower of Pisa, the smile of Mona Lisa
Both examples of Perfect Imperfections
And upon greater inspection, I'm making a connection
With every bruise, blemish, wrinkle, or scar
Your perfect imperfections
Make you perfect just as you are
You're perfectly imperfect to me.
.
A tear slid down Blaine's face as he continued to play.
.
Your body is your clay, you mold it every day
Trying to sculpt the perfect form
You keep it hidden and covered, but what I've discovered
There's nothing you need to transform
.
You fight for your goal, but it takes its toll
Like a larva in its chrysalis cage
You think you're on the verge, one day you'll emerge
I feel you're precious in every stage
I love you as you are
.
Blaine stared hard into Kurt's eyes as he sang the final line. He took a breath before continuing into the next verse. Kurt had a tear sliding down his cheek.
.
The leaning tower of Pisa, the smile of Mona Lisa
Both examples of Perfect Imperfections
And upon greater inspection, I'm making a connection
With every bruise, blemish, wrinkle, or scar
Your perfect imperfections make you perfect as you are
You're perfectly imperfect to me.
.
It's such a misconception, that beauty is perfection
Like you've only won if you've reached your peak
But until you do, see it from my view
Your differences are what make you unique
.
Kurt's chest was heaving. Blaine said that the lyrics had gotten personal, but did he mean this for him? Was Blaine saying what he thought he was saying? Blaine stared right into his eyes as he sang the lyrics once more.
Blaine's eyes were wet with tears as the melody modulated to a higher key.
.
The leaning tower of Pisa, the smile of Mona Lisa
Both examples of Perfect Imperfections
And upon greater inspection, I'm making a connection
With every bruise, blemish, wrinkle, or scar
Your perfect imperfections make you perfect as you are
I love you as you are
You're perfectly imperfect to me
.
Blaine laid down the guitar and Kurt was already there, his arms wrapping around Blaine's neck and Blaine lifted him up, Kurt's long legs wrapping around his waist. They kissed passionately as Blaine carried them to the couch, shedding clothes along the way.
"Blaine," Kurt cried, kissing Blaine's lips as Blaine gently laid Kurt down on his back, pressing his body on top to meet him in another kiss. "Do you mean it?"
"I mean every word," Blaine panted. "I love you, Kurt."
"I love you too, Blaine. I love you so much," Kurt gasped. "Show me, but not here. Take me upstairs."
"As you wish," Blaine smiled coyly, scooping Kurt into his arms and walking to the stairs, slowly and clumsily.
"I meant, lead the way, you silly man." Kurt laughed, wiggling his way out of Blaine's arms.
"And you laugh at me for my way with words," Blaine chuckled, taking Kurt's hand and leading him upstairs.
"If you can string words together like that, what do you need me for?" Kurt replied, kissing his lips at the top of the steps.
"For everything. I need you for everything," Blaine blurted, twisting the doorknob to the guestroom and hurrying inside.
"Show me," Kurt pleaded, lifting his sweater above his head and discarding it on the floor. "Please."
"With pleasure," Blaine replied, kissing Kurt soundly and laying him on the bed.
Torturously slow and sweet was what transpired, with whispered I love yous and passionate kisses that they never dared to share before. Because this was different. They were in love, and Blaine intended to show Kurt just how much he meant to him.
Blaine unbutton Kurt's pajama top, startled to see that there was nothing underneath this time. No compression shirts, no shaping products of any kind. Kurt was bare in front of him. Blaine immediately started kissing and caressing Kurt's creamy, pale skin as if he couldn't get enough.
"You aren't wearing the shaper?" Blaine asked.
"Someone kept insisting that I didn't need one," Kurt said as he lifted Blaine's tank top over his head, his body trembling as he did so as if he feared what Blaine was going to say next.
Instead, Blaine grabbed Kurt's face and kissed him passionately. "You don't, but you're beautiful either way. Perfectly imperfect. I love you with the layers, because they are a metaphor for the beautiful complexities of you, but I love you more without because no one else gets to see you like this. God Kurt, I just…" A tear fell from Blaine's eye. "I just can't believe that someone like you could want me."
"I've wanted you since the first time I saw you, Blaine," Kurt admitted, eyes shining. "I just didn't think it was possible. I never would've believed that a guy like you would even look twice at me."
"God, Kurt, I have to force myself to stop staring every time you walk into the room. You're so fuckin' beautiful, Kurt," Blaine said, his fingers dipping below the waistband of Kurt's pajama pants. "Can I take these off?"
"Please," Kurt begged.
"Ok, "Blaine said, kissing Kurt tenderly as he shed his own boxer shorts."What do you want to do tonight?"
"Make love to me, Blaine. I want to see you," Kurt whimpered as he laid down on the bed and motioned for Blaine to join him.
Blaine didn't need to be asked again. He cupped Kurt's face and kissed him deeply, their tongues mingling, exploring each other's mouths as if nothing else existed and they had all the time in the world. Blaine curved his fingers around Kurt's cock, squeezing a little to elicit those little noises Kurt made previously when Blaine touched him like this. Kurt moaned into Blaine's mouth and did the same to Blaine, pumping Blaine's dick with his unlubed hands.
"Supplies," Kurt panted. "In my bedside drawer. Hurry. Want you."
"So bossy," Blaine chuckled as he found the contents in the drawer. "But I love you anyway."
"I love you too.
"God, Blaine, you're so good at that," Kurt said, caressing Blaine's chest, his fingers trailing in the pearly white liquid that still painted his chest. "We need to clean up."
Blaine nodded. "We can take a shower in a minute, and then I need to pack. My flight is first thing in the morning. But we need to talk first. I love you. You love me. Where does this leave us?"
"I'm yours, Blaine, even if we're the only two who know it right now. My heart belongs to you, as if it could belong to anyone else after that. That song. It's beautiful!"
"It's true," Blaine confessed, kissing Kurt sweetly on the lips. "One hundred percent. I think I've felt that way since we've met."
"It'll be complicated," Kurt said. "Even if you got the transfer. We'll have to be extremely careful."
"It'll be hard, but it couldn't be more difficult than trying to conceal my emotions from you. That was torture. As long as we have each other, we'll be fine," Blaine assured Kurt, kissing his forehead. "I'm going to really fight for a position in the music department. Wes texted me today and said that Mr. Berry made his retirement announcement yesterday."
"This is perfect," Kurt said. "You're more than qualified, Blaine. Nick said he and Jeff are able to make it work in different departments, and they're getting married in the fall. We could have that."
"Eventually. It's a little too soon for marriage," Blaine laughed. "But yeah, I want that."
Blaine had barely sat down his guitar on the stand in the corner of his office before Nick burst in.
"Hey, man. I heard that you put in for the department head position. Way to go, man!" Nick said, putting his hand out for their fist bump. "That's fantastic! You're so perfect for it, and then I can get your title and get me an assistant, and a nice hefty pay raise," Nick laughed.
"Hold your horses, man. Nothing's set in stone. You know there will probably be fifty people applying for that position. It's a pretty coveted title."
"Yes, it is," Nick admitted. "But you're totally qualified for it. You have a music degree and a business degree. You know the business inside and out. Hell, you're a musician yourself. I played that song you sent me last night. God, Blaine. It made Jeff cry, and then you know how I get when he cries, and I had to cheer him up, and I guess I owe you one," Nick laughed, blushing.
"Dude, I don't wanna know the details, but I'll put that favor in my back pocket."
"I'm assuming by the way you limped in here and that dopey grin that's been plastered across your face, you and Kurt worked things out," Nick grinned knowingly. "I mean, it's obvious that that song was for him."
"Obviously," Blaine smiled. "But you can't say anything. He's really nervous that he'll get fired if anyone finds out."
"Dude, I understand completely, and I'll be discreet,"
"Discreet about what," Tina blurted as she barged into Blaine's office holding a plate with two pieces of cake. "I smuggled a piece of this for you yesterday since you weren't here. Mr. Berry's retiring, and God, Rachel will not shut up about how the job is rightfully hers. You don't know how hard it was to get this piece of cake. Santana had to distract her. Although, I'm not even sure it was worth the trouble. It's vegan, and it's just not real cake. I don't care what anyone says," Tina said, rolling her eyes.
She pushed the smaller of the two pieces onto a second plate that must've been underneath the first one, and sat it on Blaine's desk. "So, I heard you might be leavin' our department. I hope you get it and put Rachel in her place. Just because she is Mr. Berry's daughter doesn't mean that she's remotely qualified. I mean, yeah, she got into NYADA, but we all know that school is bogus because they turned down Elliott and Kurt. And Rachel didn't even get her degree. And so what. She was on Broadway. Most of the artists we promote here aren't on Broadway. She didn't even do "Funny Girl" that long before she quit that too. I think her track record speaks for itself. You've been here five years in a department you hate. Now, if that's not dedication, I don't know what is."
Blaine's face fell. "It's pathetic is what it is," Blaine said with a sigh. "Me thinking that I have a shot getting this title. My dad would never put me in charge of a department, specifically the music department," Blaine sighed, pacing back and forth.
"Hey, no. None of that stinkin' thinking man," Nick said, shaking his head at Tina. "This song. Tina, you have to hear the song that Blaine wrote for K- the kickass campaign. It's beautiful."
"Oh, you wrote the jingle? I need to hear it. I think we have the posters done. Elliott said you got that amazin' shot. It's perfect. God, Blaine. You can't leave us. You're too good at everything you do here. We'd be lost without you," Tina rambled.
Nick cleared his throat. "I'm standing right here, Tina. I'm applying for Blaine's job, and he'd still be right upstairs if we needed him. Besides, we'll have Kurt too."
"Oh, how rude of me! How is Kurt, and when does he come back? That was so nice of you to stay and help him while his father was in the hospital," Tina said.
"He'll be back Friday. He wants to help his dad get some things settled at the garage. His dad was planning on selling it anyway, and then, he needs to meet with Body Formations one more time on Thursday morning to show them the ad, but then he'll be back," Blaine said with a stupid grin.
"Oh, that's good. He's been so great for this team, Blaine. Can you believe how perfect he was for this campaign?" Tina questioned. "I mean, the way Emily gushed about him and tried to offer him a job right in front of you, I mean, I can't believe that he didn't take it."
"It's in Ohio, Tina. Kurt wants to be here in New York," Blaine replied simply.
"Well, that's a shame, because they offered him a hefty signing bonus, and he'd make so much more than what we make here, and everyone knows how expensive it is to live in New York."
Blaine glared at Tina as he sat down in his office chair and took a bite of the cake and immediately spit it into his napkin.
"Hey, listen to this song," Nick said, trying to distract Tina and allow Blaine to calm down. "I think it's the best one he's ever written.
It turned out that Tina agreed, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my God, Blaine! I didn't even know that you were seeing anybody, but you must be if you wrote something like that. It's not about that short Filipino girl that your dad keeps trying to set you up with, is it?"
Blaine shook his head, "I'm gay, Tina. Goldstar gay, even if my dad refuses to accept it. It's for my boyfriend. We're exclusive, but it's new, and we're not ready to tell people yet."
"Oh, well, I'm happy for you Blaine, and I hope you get this promotion. You really do deserve it, especially after writing that song. Body Formations is going to love it."
Tina had never made a truer statement. Body Formations loved the song. They of course weren't going to use the entire song, but Blaine was able to condense and rewrite parts of it so it would fit the ad that they had created. The company asked them to film a tv ad, which they were collaborating to write. Artie Abrams, the director they usually hired for video ads, was currently in the conference room discussing the concept video with them.
"So, we start with Cinderella, and she's trying on the dress, right? She tuggin' and pullin'"
"Wanky!" Santana laughed.
"Shhhh, let him continue," Tina said. "It's brilliant."
Kurt just stared in disbelief as Artie continued.
"All of a sudden, poof! The fairy godmother appears, but instead of a wand, she's holding a body formations body shaper. She nods her head, and Cinderella is rockin' that dress, her curves perfectly accentuated, and she ends the evening dancin' the night away with Prince Aladdin or whatever."
Blaine sighed. "It's Prince Charming, and I don't think it fits the rest of our campaign. Our whole premise is that the shapers are for everyday people trying to gain confidence. Find the beauty there, even if their bodies aren't as perfect as they'd currently like them to be."
"But Cinderella was a normal peasant, yo. She was treated as a servant girl, a slave even, and she rose up to become a princess."
"Maybe, but we don't want to send the message that after you buy the product, you'll meet your prince, and everyone will live happily ever after," Kurt interjected. "It'll help give confidence, so their customers can picture themselves ten pounds lighter, or dancing that role onstage, or running that final lap of the marathon, or getting that promotion, but we don't want to send the impression that it'll change everything overnight."
"Speaking of promotions, I think we should all go out tonight," Rachel almost shouts. "I'm not supposed to say anything yet, but I can't hold it in. I got the word today that I'm the new department head of the music department."
"What?" Kurt and Blaine say at the same time, both turning to glare in disbelief at their loud coworker.
"Yeah. My daddy and Mr. A. told me today. I knew I would get it. I mean, I'm totally qualified for it," Rachel said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
"Wait, what? That's total bullshit!" Santana hollered. "Blaine is totally more qualified than you, even if he's the CEO's son. He's actually done something for the campaign. He wrote a kickass song. He's helped write the ad. He and Kurt put the whole ad together. What the hell have you done?"
"My dad ran the department for twenty-five years."
"And my dad did countless life-saving procedures, including open-heart surgery. Does that qualify me to rip your heart outta your chest right here? Even though I'm pretty sure that'd be impossible because you'd have to have a heart first. Being a narcissistic leech does not qualify you to run a music department, especially when the best thing you wrote was about your freakin' headband," Santana spat, her hand on her hip.
Blaine shook his head. "Santana, it's ok. I didn't think that I'd get it. That would mean that my dad would actually have to be aware of my contributions to this team and value me for my skills. Congratulations, Rachel. You'll do great. Artie, I think you guys have this video thing panned down. I'm going to cut out. I've got some things I need to take care of in my office," Blaine said, standing and heading for the door.
Kurt stood up as well. "Blaine, wait. I'll come with you. I have that conference call with Body Formations. We can update them on the video. The ad. You can tell them about the premise."
"Yeah, sure. Ok. Good luck, guys." Blaine called, as he nearly sprinted out of the office, Kurt right on his heels.
"Blaine, honey," Kurt said, closing the door behind them. "I'm so sorry. You deserved that job." Kurt said, kissing Blaine's lips, and wrapping his arms around him tightly, and rubbing his back.
Tears started running down Blaine's face. "I don't know why I thought I had a shot, that dad would take my application seriously. I guess I just hoped…"
Kurt nodded as they both sat, Blaine on his chair, Kurt on his lap, foreheads pressed together, Kurt's arms still wrapped around Blaine's neck. "I know. I had hoped too, especially since he seemed so proud of the work you've done on this campaign, specifically calling out your work with the sport's angle. I thought for sure that he'd give you the job. I love you, Blaine," he said, kissing him gently on the lips. "It'll be ok."
Blaine shook his head. "He's never going to take me seriously here. And all of this is not fair to you. Hiding this. Us. I know that you hate it." Blaine said, biting his lip. "You deserve better. We deserve better," Blaine said, nuzzling Kurt's cheek, and kissing his cheek first, and then his jaw. "I think I should just look at other companies. Something will come up."
"Something is already up," Kurt said coyly, taking Blaine's hand and moving it to the bulge in his pants. "I think it's that pouty face and the way you kiss me. Damn. You know my kryptonite already," Kurt giggled. "Maybe, I can cheer you up a little. A little pick me up for a disappointing day," Kurt said slyly, unzipping Blaine's fly and slipping his hand inside Blaine's pants. "Do you remember those tights? God, I've wanted to take you in this office ever since you-"
"Son, I wanted to," Richard Anderson, stood there in the doorway of Blaine's office, his mouth agape as Kurt jerked his hand away from Blaine's crotch like it was on fire. "What the hell, Blaine!"
"Dad, we can explain. Kurt and I- We're in love. And I thought I was transferring, so I wouldn't be in this department anymore."
"Well, that you'd be right about," George said, storming into Blaine's office, and slamming the door. "Because neither of you is in this department anymore. Kurt, you're fired. Pack your things. It's over. I can't believe that you'd come in here and try to seduce my son." George roared. " I came down here to explain about the music department. I thought maybe all this, with this campaign, was showing me that you were ready. That song that you obviously wrote about the girl you've been seeing. Mrs. Corzone."
"I'm gay, dad. I've been out for 14 years. I haven't kept it a secret. The song is about Kurt, and I'm happy to be with him," Blaine screamed furiously as Kurt stood there frozen, tears slipping down his face.
"Well, he's fired. You're fired. Get your ass out of this office," he said threateningly to Kurt.
Blaine shook his head, as Kurt headed for the door. Blaine ran in front of him, cutting him off, and taking his hand. "Kurt, please, don't go, yet. You need to hear this too." Kurt nodded even though he was trembling. "I love this man, and I don't give a damn about you or this company anymore. I've done everything you've ever asked of me and more, and it'll never be enough for you."
George was screaming now. "I gave you a job! I paid for your education, and I've given you more than enough chances to settle down and forget this gay stuff! Sew your wild oats or whatever your mother was always spewing about. Well, you can sew them somewhere else, because I'm tired of being disappointed by you! You're in the mailroom until further notice."
"I'm not, because I hereby resign. You'll get my notice by the end of the evening."
"Blaine," Kurt cried. "You can't."
"I can, and I will. I was holding on to hope that he would change. That he would one day see me as his son and accept me for who I am, but I realize that is a pipe dream. It's ok. I have a new dream now. It's you. You and me," Blaine said, kissing Kurt's lips sweetly. "I love you, and I promise you that we'll make this work." Blaine turned to George, his fists gripped so tight his knuckles were white. "I'll have my stuff cleaned out by tonight. I'm going to help Kurt get his things. Unless you want to stand here while we do and say gay things, I suggest you leave my office now," Blaine growled.
George Anderson stomped away furiously as Kurt collapsed into Blaine's arms, sobbing inconsolably.
Author's Note: I'll post the final two chapters tomorrow. This by far was the hardest chapter to write, partly because the song, Perfectly Imperfect was written by me. It's a song that I'd love to actually love to publish. I initially wrote it for my girls. For you all that have followed my work for awhile, you know that I love to write across all types of mediums, be it original poetry or letters, emails, etc. I thought I'd try songwriting. I hope you guys enjoy it and don't hate me too much for the angst.
