Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, it belongs to Ryan Murphy

Thursday, 11th November, 4:45pm, The Lima Bean

Blaine has gone to the bathroom.

I must get this all down on paper before I die of love for this boy.

So there I was, having a minor (major) mental breakdown about the possibility that I had been stood up, and my entire tragic life following that one moment, and trying not to hyperventilate while staring down at the table.

And suddenly, there is this voice.

A voice I am all too familiar with.

"Why are you sitting there, looking so forever alone?"

I could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm not forever alone." I replied with a mock glare, which failed miserably when the corners of my mouth twitched upwards.

"Yeah you are."

"I'm just...temporarily alone." I replied.

Let us take a moment to admire the genius comeback.

Even you must admit that this is really good, for my horribly useless mouth that is.

Ok, done.

So, Blaine is holding a tray with two coffees and a cinnamon bun.

To share.

Do you see this?

So we sit down and make small talk while shoving the warm, sugary, fattening cinnamon bun down our throats. We talk about global warming (he is super concerned), our favourite actresses (Helena Bonham Carter is his), and Dalton Academy (though he stops after a while to remark that I still am a suckish spy, jokingly.)

The dweeb.

Then, shit got real.

"So what's the real reason behind this date? You sounded pretty upset on the phone."

My heart exploded when he said the word 'date'.

I contemplated just saying nothing about the kiss, just saying that it wasn't important or try flirting with him, saying that I just wanted to see him or something.

You know, "I just had to see your gorgeous face again." And everything would be black and white and I would be in a British accent and then his eyes would go disturbingly dark with lust or romance and he'd sweep me up and-

Ahem.

But I didn't.

Because, he could tell that I was upset over the phone.

And brilliant actor that I am, even I couldn't pull off such desperate urgency.

Over the phone.

In real life, I could probably pull it off.

ENOUGH WITH THE INTERUPTIONS, BRAIN.

Blaine will only take so long in there.

Ok, I told him the story about the kiss.

Disgusting though it was, he didn't even flinch.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt." he said.

"It's not your fault, Blaine."

"But nobody deserves that," he said, "Nobody. And certainly not somebody as special as you."

He was looking at me with a strange look. I was trying to figure out what it was but I still haven't got it. The closest I have come so far to deciding what it was is a mix of pity, sincerity and general sadness.

Yeah, there's no word for that.

Bitter as I am, I said, "But that's the thing isn't it Blaine? These things happen to people like us all the time."

He started to protest but I cut his beautiful voice off, "I mean not forced kisses, in fact, it probably never happens because seriously," a harsh chuckle, "what are your chances of having a bully who is secretly gay and like perving after you come and kiss you, slam his fist into a locker and then later leave."

I took a shaky breath.

"I mean, bad things happen to gay kids all over the place because there is so much hate just….all over the place and they say it gets better, but does it really? Because it hasn't gotten better for me, things have been getting worse and this is just the sick, twisted, deformed cherry on top. And I'm just really exhausted, Blaine"

Then, silence.

I'm pretty sure I just went off rambling about everything under the blue moon, didn't I?

But that apparently wasn't enough for my freaking mouth to just stop.

No.

I added, oh so very helpfully, "McKinley High hallways smell really bad."

Pause.

Here's the real kicker.

"What does Dalton smell like?"

I know.

Excuse me, I'm going to hit my head on the door repeatedly for several hours until my brain leaks out through my eyes.

To my extreme relief however, Blaine let out a small chuckle.

"Just so you know, Dalton smells like coffee and boys."

"Not rainbows and unicorns?"

"No"

"….but coffee and boys are my two favourite things."

I'm sorry, but I don't appear to have a filter around Blaine.

Another bubbly laugh that sounded so sinful.

"As for your other little speech…."

I sighed.

"It's true."

My head snapped up, "What?"

"It's true," he repeated calmly. "I won't deny it, but there are things that make up for the pain and bitterness."

"….Well…?"

He leaned in real close and beckoned me to follow suit, looking around like he was diverging a sacred secret to the cure for cancer.

I felt his coffee breath on my cheek as he said….

"Boys"

And then I started laughing like a lunatic and the whole shop was staring but it was okay, because Blaine was doing the same thing.

Then, he left for the bathroom.

And now we're here.

It's amazing how fast I have fallen for this kid.

Even though he is shorter than me.

Ah the little hobbit.

He's adorable.

Thursday, 11th November, 7:30pm, Kitchen.

Chicken's in the oven. Organic.

Bread's on the table. Wholegrain.

Fresh fruit in the fridge. Chillin'

Excellent.

Now for some diary time.

Maybe I should follow suit with the lady from "Eat. Pray. Love" and have conversations with myself.

Let's give it a go.

"Kurt, what are your intentions with Blaine?"

"Why you talking in a British accent, partner?"

"I suppose I'm the rational side and you're the hillbilly side."

"Ya'll don't make any sense now."

Ok this is weird.

But anyway, the chicken still has half an hour, I might as well.

"Intentions for Blaine?"

"I like him, I think he's pretty."

"Besides that though, don't you find him adorable and sweet and kind and caring and such a gentleman and so smart and he sings, Kurt he sings like a dream."

"Yeah that too."

"You like him?"

"I just said so"

"In that case, I see we're on the same side."

"Kurt, we are the same person."

"Why'd you lose the accent?"

"I guess I'm rational too."

"Hmmm…touché"

Interesting….

It seems that I like Blaine.

But we already knew that I guess.

It also appears that I should be in a mental institution.

This game is oddly soothing, but addling my brains.

Maybe Sudoku is better for killing time.

And probably healthier.

You know, for my mentality.