Goodbye, goodbye
Goodbye my love

Dear Dave,

I didn't start this with the intent of sending it to you. I hadn't even really meant to start it. Blame Taylor Swift. I do.

I can't hide, can't hide
Can't hide what's come

You know how I've always said that music was something therapeutic that could help anyone through anything? I still kind of b nelieve that. But I also believe that music has the power to destroy someone, too. If they let it.

I have to go, I have to go
I have to go and leave you alone

I think I almost let it destroy me by doing this. I came close. I spent a lot of nights crying, because this music just brought back so much. So many memories, good and bad. Things that I'd spent the entire summer trying to forget. Things that I'm going to have to try to forget all over again because I reopened old wounds much too soon.

But always know, always know
Always know that I love you so

It's not that I don't love you. So far from it, to be honest. I think I'm probably more in love with you than I ever have been. But I can't keep doing this. I can't cling to this hope that you're going to come back. That we'll be together again. Because I know it's not going to happen. I don't know if you're happy. I don't know if you've been in love since. I haven't. Not really. I couldn't fall in love because I couldn't let go of you.

I love you so
I love you so

You can listen to this. Or you can just leave it. I'm not sending it to you for you. I'm doing it for me.

Goodbye, brown eyes
Goodbye for now

I'm sending it because this is what I need to do in order to let go. This is the closure that I need to end all of this once and for all. I've spent too many nights in the past six/seven months crying over the fact that you weren't here. And I never even knew why you left. Maybe you just didn't love me anymore. I don't know. I don't think I'm ever going to know. I'm never going to understand.

Goodbye, sunshine
Take care of yourself

I hope that wherever you go in life, whatever you do... you're happy. That's all I've ever really wanted for you. I hope that you find whatever you're looking for, and someday, I hope that you find someone that you love who loves you back. I hope that you spend your life together, maybe in some big city out in California. Or maybe in Chicago. Or hell, even in New York. But if you're in New York, you have to look me up sometime. We'll have drinks or something. When things are dead and buried and we can stand to look at each other. Maybe ten years down the road or so.

I have to go, I have to go
I have to go and leave you alone

So this is goodbye.

But always know, always know
Always know that I love you so

Maybe forever. But I hope not.

I love you so
I love you so

You were such a big part of my life, and I feel like I've lost such a huge part of me since you've been gone. I hope that someday I can look back on our time in my life and be happy. Not feel like there's some huge missing piece. I hope that someday we can be friends and look back on this and maybe laugh. Well, I doubt we'll laugh. But I do hope we can form some kind of relationship. Bounce back from this.

I love you, Dave.
Take care of yourself.

Love,

Kurt

Goodbye, brown eyes
Goodbye, my love

Kurt exhaled deeply and read back over the email. His hands were shaking as he hovered over the send button. He hadn't tried to make any kind of contact since May. He wondered how Dave would feel about this, coming out of the blue. Not so long after a recent break-up. Oh god, he shouldn't send it. If Dave was all depressed over Sebastian, this would only make him feel worse, wouldn't it? No. No. He was doing this for himself. Dave probably wouldn't even read it. And if he did, he'd probably just roll his eyes over Kurt's stupidity.

He thought about sending it to Santana first to see what she thought about it. He shook his head. No. He could show Finn. No. It was too personal, despite the fact that Finn had been there through all of this already. Finn didn't even know about the playlist. His dad did, but he doubted his dad would really understand it. He finally just hit the send button, before he could completely change his mind and chicken out.

He felt a strange sort of relief when his computer told him the email had been sent. Like a huge weight had been lifted off of him. He smiled and it didn't feel strained. He warily dragged himself out of his chair and collapsed on his bed. He felt like he needed to recharge, and he was sure that he could probably sleep for days now. There was a nice kind of freedom knowing that things were completely finished now. This was what he had needed. This was the closure he had been looking for. Now he could be happy. He curled up under the blankets. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that he was going to tell his family tonight that it was finally over. That he was happy again and there would be no more pints of ice cream.

L-lullaby, help me sleep tonight

Kurt woke to his phone ringing. An annoying, persistent sound. He thought if he just ignored it, that it might stop, but whoever it was just kept calling. He finally reached over to the night stand (unsuccessfully the first time) and grabbed it. He brought it to his ear, giving a sleepy "hello" to the person at the other end. The crying was what snapped him awake and had him bolting upright.

"Hello?" He asked again, not being able to discern whoever it was just from the sniffling coming in at the other end. He had no idea who it was, but it didn't matter as they were crying.

"K-kurt," Was that Santana? "A-am I interrupting anything?"

"No, nothing. What's wrong?" He asked, his heart racing. Whatever had happened, it was bad enough to make Santana cry. That was no small feat.

"Can I come over? Or can we meet? I don't know. I need someone to talk to."

"Do you need me to pick you up? You don't sound okay to drive, San."

"I... yes. Um. I'm..." Good god, she didn't even know where the hell she was. What the hell had happened? "Do you know where Fat Jack's is?"

"Yeah. I'm not that far, actually." Kurt said, and he wondered for a moment if Santana even knew where he lived. "I'll be there in less than five. Just sit tight, okay?"

"Okay." He went to hang up but heard a sharp, "Kurt!"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Of course."

He hopped off his bed, thankful that he hadn't changed or anything earlier. He didn't bother checking his hair, though he knew he probably had some pretty wild bedhead. He raced down the stairs, two at a time, his keys jingling in his hand. His dad called out to him, but he shook his head, telling him that he had no time to talk and he'd be back in less than twenty minutes. His dad didn't seem to pleased, but Kurt would explain everything later, when he figured out what the hell was going on.

He jumped into his car, starting it up before he even got his door shut. He didn't even think to put on his seatbelt, as he rushed out of their driveway and sped towards where Santana was waiting. He found her sitting in her car in the parking lot and wasted no time opening her door. She threw her arms around him immediately, and fuck he was so confused but she was so broken. He had no idea what it took to break Santana, but it must have been something really fucking big.

And then he realized that she'd come out to her friends recently. The next logical step (or maybe even the first in most cases) was to come out to your family, wasn't it? He would bet that this had something to do with that. She still didn't say anything as he locked her doors and took her to the passenger seat of his car. He made sure she was all settled in before getting in and heading for home. She was still crying, and she made no attempt at conversation. He was going to wait for her to talk.

He led her inside and was faced with the problem of where to talk to her. He could talk to her in the living room, but that meant that anyone could listen in, and he was sure she probably wanted privacy. He'd never gotten in trouble for having a girl in his room, so he directed her up the stairs. He felt his father's gaze on him and turned to see quizzical stares from both his dad and Finn. Kurt could do nothing more than shrug and follow Santana up the stairs.

She slipped off her shoes and climbed into his bed. There was something he'd never thought he'd see in a million years. She wrapped herself up in his comforter, so he took a seat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her. He kind of wanted to press her for information, but he also didn't want to push her into hysterics. So he waited.

"My abuela is one of the most important people in my life." Santana said quietly, her voice raw and distorted because of her stuffy nose.

"It was really bad?" He asked, running his fingers through her hair. He didn't know exactly why he did it, maybe because it was soothing to him when he was upset. Whatever. She didn't bat him away, and it seemed to help.

"She told me that," Her voice cracked and she buried her face in his comforter. It was a few moments before he heard her muffled voice again. "Some things should be kept secrets."

"So she basically told you that you should have stayed in the closet?" Kurt asked, disbelieving. He knew that people could be so cruel, but it was difficult for him to believe that someone so close to you could react that way. Then again, he could remember a time when he'd been terrified that his dad would react that way.

"Oh, San. I'm so sorry." What else could he say? There was nothing you could say that would heal something like that. Nothing was going to make that better, unless Santana's abuela herself could magically manifest in Kurt's room and take back what she said. Which, if her abuela was nearly as stubborn as her, that wasn't happening anytime soon. "Can I do anything?"

"Can I have some water?" Santana asked and Kurt nodded.

"I'll be right back." He said and slipped downstairs.

His dad and Finn followed him into the kitchen, as he was sure they would. He didn't say a word as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. His dad and Finn seemed like they had no idea what to do for a moment, until his dad finally cleared his throat and said, "So what's going on?"

"Coming out crisis." Kurt answered, looking at his dad.

"Parents?"

"Grandmother."

"That's such bullsh- crap. Bullcrap." Finn said, glancing quickly at Burt, who just rolled his eyes.

"In this case, bullshit is very appropriate."

"Oh. This is bullshit."

"We've established that Finn, but thank you." Kurt said, grinning as he rolled his eyes.

"She seems pretty shaken up."

"Yeah. I don't know-"

"However long it takes, Kurt. We'll set a plate for her if she's still here at dinnertime." Burt said, holding up a hand. Kurt was reminded once again that he had such an amazing father. He could tell from Finn's goofy smile that he felt the same. Kurt nodded and slipped back upstairs to Santana. She was sitting up now and took the glass from him, taking a small sip before setting it on his night stand.

"Did you ever have anyone really close to you reject you because you're gay?" Santana asked him as he sat down.

"No," Kurt admitted, shaking his head. "Though, my dad is really the only family I have. Well, had at the time, anyway. I was terrified that he wouldn't accept me because he was all I really had."

Santana moved closer to him, cuddling up to his side. He often wondered how many people knew that this side of Santana existed. Not many, he was sure. He wondered what the hell he had done to get to see it. He wrapped an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder as she said, "Of all the people I really cared about, I never thought she'd be the one to say something like that. My parents had even been okay with it, but not my abuela. Do you think she'll come around?"

"I'm sure she will eventually. It might take a really long time. I don't know what it's like, being on that side of the fence, but I watched my dad struggle with it for a while. It's hard for them to accept it, just like it's hard for us," Kurt told her.

"You're a good friend, you know that?" Santana said quietly.

"Thanks."

"I mean it," she said, pulling back away from him to look into his eyes. "I don't have a lot of friends. Not ones that I'm this close to. I don't really feel like I can open up to a lot of people, you know? And I hide so much behind my bitchy persona that I'm sure most people wouldn't even believe that I'm like this when people aren't looking."

"Well, I have no idea what I did that you felt you could show it to me, but I'm glad to know the real Santana. She's actually kind of sweet." Kurt grinned.

She grabbed a pillow and threw it at him saying, "Take that, sweetness."

"Oh, now you've done it." Kurt said, grabbing the pillow and smacking her with it. Before he knew it, they were having a full-on pillow war, and fuck she could hit pretty hard. But he held his own, and they were practically just throwing pillows at each other now. He was in the closet, ducking behind the door, and she'd built up a little fort on the bed to protect herself, launching the pillows that she wasn't using for protection. That was what his father had walked in on when he came to announce dinner.

"I... um. Right. Dinner is done, if you guys are hungry."

"Starving!" Kurt said as he crawled out of his hiding place. He should have been expecting Santana to play dirty, but for a moment, he'd forgotten it was Santana and yelped when a pillow came flying at his head. He tossed it back and said, "Cheater."

"Snix did it." Santana said innocently as she jumped off of the bed and followed him out of the room. She combed her fingers through his hair as she said, "Your hair is a mess. Were you asleep when I called?"

"Yeah. I'd passed out a while ago. I would have ignored you, too, but you kept calling."

"Hmph," Santana said, running around him and down the stairs. "See if I ever help you again, Kurt Hummel."

"I came, didn't I?" Kurt cried, following her down.

"That's what you don't want to hear her say." Santana snickered and Kurt rolled his eyes. Burt cleared his throat and Santana and Kurt looked up the stairs, before sharing an embarrassed look. They'd forgotten he was even there.

"Glad to know you're feeling better, Santana." Burt said as he passed them and headed into the kitchen. Santana glared at Kurt and Kurt just shrugged, following his dad into the kitchen, Santana close on his heels.

Kurt could never say that he thought having Santana over for dinner would be pleasant, but she could be very polite. He wondered if she was usually like this around other people's parents, or if she was just being polite because of how nice his dad had been. Whatever the case, he'd enjoyed having Santana over for dinner. Fuck, that sounded so weird in his head. He had even enjoyed her constant bicker with Finn. So had their parents, if the way they were trying to hide there smiles was any indication. Kurt would even go so far as to say that Finn didn't even mind it.

After dinner, he'd driven her back to her car, where they'd lost track of time as they leaned against her car and talked. He never thought he'd have so much to talk about with her, but the more they talked, the more he realized that they actually had quite a bit in common. That was a scary thought. He and Santana had a lot in common. If he'd known that in the past, he'd probably want to shoot himself in the face.

"Thank you for everything, Kurt. You really just... you've made me feel so much better." Santana said as she wrapped her arms around Kurt in a tight hug.

"What are friends for?" Kurt asked, hugging her back.

"We should do this more often." She laughed as she pulled back.

"What, hug?" He joked, and she gave him a tap on the arm as she rolled her eyes.

"Hang out in general."

"I agree. Though I can honestly say that never in a million years did I think I'd hear you say that to me."

"Yeah, well, you're a lot cooler than people know," Santana smiled at him as she opened up her door and climbed in. "Night Kurt."

"Night Snix." He smirked and laughed as she rolled her eyes. He climbed into his car, grinning like an idiot. Many, many unexpected things were happening, but they weren't at all unpleasant. He was actually glad that he was developing some kind of friendship with Santana. He'd always thought that maybe she wasn't completely a bitch, and now he had his proof. She had just been a scared gay teenager who'd been terrified at the idea of being found out. He could understand that because he'd been there himself.

He just wished he could make people more accepting. It was because of people like that they had been so scared to come out in the first place. They shouldn't have to be scared to be who they were. He just hoped that future generations would have more accepting people in their lives. Life would be so much easier if everyone would just get along.