A/N: Chapter six! We're almost there! Only one more chapter to go until this is finished. I'm actually really excited, I've never written fanfic before this and I wasn't even sure if I'd ever finish this. Look at me now; I have a six going on seven chapter story. By the way thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter, who knew leaving it at a cliffhanger could get you guys so riled up? This one is sort of a cliffhanger too, I hope you don't mind. I also hope the letter lives up to everyone's expectations; I tried to get the emotion across. I'm sorry if I didn't for you. I know I said that this would be from Blaine's perspective, but when you look at it it's mostly the letter. I was surprised at how long the letter got, Kurt had a lot that needed to be said. Also, there's not much you can say about a guy who is lost in his own thoughts and moping. Alright I think it's time to close this rambling note now. I hope you enjoy!/

Blaine,

I love you.

I just needed to say that first of all. It's true, though I've been denying it for years. I've loved you since high school. I think I knew even on those stairs at Dalton that you were someone I could fall in love with. I'm not saying I loved you at that moment; I'm a little more realistic than that. But I do think I loved you within that first year, maybe even within the first month.

Before you read the rest of this I want to make one thing clear to you, this is not meant to make you feel guilty. I am not writing this letter to hurt you in any way. So before you start the 'Why haven't I ever noticed? I'm horrible' that I know you will, don't. You can hate me, despise me, never want to see me again, but don't for one second take this out on yourself.

I guess it started as an infatuation. You were popular, attractive, and always there to play my knight in shining armor. It was no wonder half of the freshman class was in love with you. Remember that one, the red haired boy that practically drooled at a Warblers performance? I swore he was going to jump right out of his seat and tackle you. But, truthfully, I probably was no better than that freshman.

Over time, it moved past that, I learned that you weren't perfect. I think that's when I really started to love you. I'd finally gotten used to the Dalton schedule, and started waking up before you did. I almost burst out laughing the first morning I saw your curls. You'd forgotten to wash the gel out the night before and they'd been sticking up every which way. It was adorable, and I still prefer it curly than the helmet hair you used to have.

I do have to say though; the fastest you fell in my eyes was when I looked in your closet. Honestly Blaine, you had no fashion sense at all! I was there to rectify that, thankfully. Sure, I influenced your taste a bit, but you still make sure that everything is comfortable. But I think I was most surprised to find I didn't care that you prefer comfy rather than fashionable.

We still need to work on your obsession with everything and anything that is junk food. It's really not healthy and it's a wonder that you've been able to keep that teenage boy metabolism. I know you used to hide them all over our dorm. By the way, I haven't yet, but if I find any of your snacks in the cupboards in my kitchen I'm throwing them out.

I think the final thing to smash your shining armor was you. All of you, opening up to me, letting me care for you. I loved you even more for every part of your soul that you bared to me. That might be why I also let you in fully, you know things I haven't even told my dad. We knew how to care for each other because we knew all there was to know. Though, in your eyes we were just best friends.

I nearly cried the day you came back to our dorm, your eye swollen and purple. You looked so broken, sitting there on the edge of your bed. You didn't tell me what had happened until two days after. I let you cry into my shoulder while you told me about your dad, and his attempts at 'straightening' you out. I've never wanted to hurt someone so much as I did that day.

How could anyone want to ever change you? To me, you're wonderful the way you are .You're my childish, funny, sweet, fashion-challenged, musical, sexy , and trusting best friend. That was why I fell in love with you. That's why I've loved you all this time. To even think of someone wanting to change all of that is saddening.

I know at one point you looked up to your dad, it's understandable that a father is at the center of every young boy's universe. But he truly didn't deserve a son like you. I was happier when you started spending more time with your mom. I know that you had been upset with her in the past for divorcing your father, but in truth, Tracy is a good woman.

I know you've probably been wondering something, 'Why me Kurt? There are plenty of other men out there; I was just the first gay man you met'. I tried, I really did, and I thought if I dated other men my infatuation with you would go away. Yet, I found myself comparing them to you. John had the same curly hair, but his eyes were blue. Erik had your smile, but he was taller than I was. In the end it didn't feel right to stay with them when all I thought about was you.

I threw myself into working, focusing on my career instead of my non-existent love life. I actually met Linda at a bar; we'd both had really bad days. Her boyfriend of seven months had broken up with her and I'd just found out you were moving in with Jeremiah. We bonded over our heartbreak, and I found out that she was looking for a job. So you actually played a role in hiring my hard-working assistant.

Linda actually became my support, cheering me on when it came to you. You know how I couldn't be reached a few days after you left the message about Jeremiah accepting your engagement? I'd gone out after I'd heard it with the intention of drinking myself into oblivion. Linda forced me out of the bar and back to her place, then let me sleep off all of the alcohol I'd consumed.

I think she almost punched me the day I told her we'd be planning your wedding. Linda did slap me; it hurt like a bitch too. But, she went along with it, despite the amount of stress I'd be putting her under. Linda hated it, but she knew I'd never do anything to upset you. I promised myself the day that you came back looking broken, that I never would be the one to make you look that way.

Do you really want to know what Jeremiah said to me that day? He said that you could never break my heart until you knew you had it. I can never move on Blaine, until you break me down so that someone else can heal me. I need to tell you all of these things for myself, because I've always been thinking about you and now it's time for me to think about myself. I'm tired of loving someone that doesn't love me back.

So I want you to break me. Smash my heart until the pieces are so small that they're dust. Then I want you to let me pick myself up, don't you dare put on your shining armor. I need someone else to mend my broken heart so that I can stop feeling so lost. Sometimes I feel like a part of me is always with you, but instead of being in your hands it's stuck to the bottom of your shoe. You didn't mean for it to be, but it's there none the less.

Again, this isn't to make you feel guilty. I love even the fact that you can be oblivious sometimes. But this is for me, because this is what I need. I love you more than I can imagine loving anyone else Blaine, but this hurts. I can't stand the pain anymore. We can be friends; at least I hope we can. You'll always be my best friend, nothing will change that. I just hope I can still be yours. I can't even hope for more than that.

I love you.

Kurt

Blaine's eyes drifted upward from where they had paused at the bottom of the letter. They rested at the top of the page where Kurt had started with his name. He loosened his hands from where they had crumpled the paper. All at once his whole body seemed to let go, flopping backwards and sending the four page, handwritten letter flying.

As he tried to calm his harsh breathing, Blaine realized he didn't know when he had started crying. He pushed his sleeve across his face, trying to rid it of the wet trails. He felt awful, how could Kurt try to tell him to not? He had been stupid, selfish, and blind. At least now Blaine knew why Linda always shot him glares.

Staring up at the ceiling, he tried to let this new information sink in. Kurt loved him. He'd loved him a long time. He'd been hurting a long time. Now he wanted Blaine to break his heart.

The question now was, how did Blaine feel? To be honest, he didn't know anymore. Usually, Blaine was so straightforward with his feelings, but now everything was just a jumbled mess. His heart was warmed with Kurt's feelings for him, but Kurt had always been his friend. In short, he was confused.

Blaine spread his arms out on the floor, his fingers touching the scattered pieces of the letter. He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd lain there; it'd been more than a few hours at least. His back hurt from lying on the cold hardwood floor. He did eventually sit up, looking up to where the sky had dimmed in the large windows.

Now he could think clearer, his thoughts more organized than they had been a number of hours ago. He thought of Kurt, his perfectly styled chestnut hair, his eyes a perfect blend of blue and green, his clothes that fit him just perfectly, and his nearly shining pale skin. More than that even, his sarcasm, his caring nature, his ability to be a bitch at the best of times, his belief in everything healthy, and his secret obsession with chocolate.

Once, he'd thought about being in a relationship with Kurt. But at the time he'd convinced himself that all that Kurt needed was a friend. When was it that Kurt hadn't needed a friend anymore? Could he have missed out on something wonderful because he hadn't been able to make that distinction?

Blaine's stomach rumbled and he realized that he hadn't eaten all day. He rolled himself up, trying to avoid looking at the letter still lying on the floor. Unlike Kurt, he still found the necessity to eat, even when upset. He pulled leftover Chinese out of the fridge, not up to actually attempting to make anything. Blaine had never been any good in the kitchen anyways, that had always been Kurt's thing.

After heating it in the microwave, he sat on one of the bar stools at the counter. Blaine ate slowly, trying to prolong the task as to not have to return to his thoughts. They were confusing him and leaving him with more questions about himself than answers. Blaine stuck his fork into another piece of chicken, focusing entirely on the meat.

It did not last nearly as long as he'd wanted it to. Soon, the curly haired man was back to wallowing in his thoughts. Though, this time he'd picked a comfier spot on the couch. Blaine had yet to pick up the letter, though he almost wanted to read it again to make sure he hadn't imagined it.

He eventually left the couch in favor of going to his room. The memory of the night before Kurt left for Paris was still fresh in his mind and was not helping to clear up his thoughts. His room was a safe place, Kurt had rarely entered the room, he usually complained about the mess. Though the pictures he had on his desk still terrorized him.

This went on for the next few days, Blaine's thoughts slowly becoming clearer as the time went by. All he could think of now was what he was going to do, should he move out? But by the end of day five, Blaine had an answer of what he was going to do then as well. He could only hope that Kurt accepted his decision.