March 3
I keep having these nightmares. Ever since i read the letter. It's dark, and you're sitting in your room at your desk with a piece of paper and a pen in front of you. But you're not writing, you're just staring ahead and I keep trying to reach out to you, to touch you on the shoulder and let you know that I'm there, that I'm listening, but i can never reach you. And then you stand up and walk over to your ceiling fan and reach for the belt to tie around your neck.. I usually wake up at that point but I'm sure you know how the rest goes.
March 7
I'm trying not to be angry. I don't want to be angry at you because you're not here and no matter how mad I am it's not gonna bring you back. But I still, even after that letter, i don't understand. I just cant understand. Why did it seem easier, better even, for you to kill yourself than to just come talk to me? You know I would've listened. You know it.
March 9
I went over to Burt's today. Carole was the only one home, but she was nice as always, and she let me go up to your room. It's been a while. Everything is still kind of the same - your bed, your walls, your posters, even your closet hasn't been touched. It's like they're waiting, waiting for you to come home and yell at Finn for sitting on your comforter or Burt for attempting to sift through all your clothes. They all still smell like you. They smell like your detergent and the cologne you always used to wear and I'm telling you right now I'll never get tired of it. I'll never get tired of the way you smell or the way you used to laugh at the stupidest things, or how you rolled your eyes and sighed whenever I made the puppy dog face at you. I'll never forget the little things, Kurt. The little things are always the most important things.
March 15
Do you know what today is? 3 years. Well, it would've been. 3 years together, I mean. Three of the best years of my life with the most amazing person I've ever met and the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. But you're not here and we're not together and there's no point in celebrating something that just isn't anymore. There's no more Kurt and Blaine, no more coffee dates or make out sessions, no more staying up til the crack of dawn texting, no more snuggling together on the couch for movie night or shooting each other looks from across the classroom. There's no more unexpected dates or late night phone calls and there's no more of everything that I grew to love and adore so much. I haven even gotten out of bed today, because it hurts too much. Especially today. It hurts to move and it hurts to breathe and it hurts to just be.
March 17
I'm fighting this constant battle with myself. I can't stop blaming myself for what happened one minute, and the next minute I'm sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor crying because I miss you so fucking much. Jesus Kurt, I miss you so much and soemtimes I go to bed with one of your shirts on because it still smells like you and I think that maybe if I dream hard enough and long enough then I'll wake up and you'll be there, underneath the covers cuddled up next to me. But it never works, and day after day I go to bed with so much hope only to wake up the next morning with none. Hope, dream, disappoint, repeat.
March 24
People at school have stopped staring at me when I walk down the halls. I'm trying to decide if its a good thing or a bad thing. It means that the guy who's boyfriend killed himself 7 months ago isn't the talk of the school anymore. It means they've moved on. Maybe I should too.
March 29
I'm writing less and less frequently now, because I guess there just isn't much left to say. It would always be the same thing, over and over again. How much I miss you, how much I wish things were different and how much I want you to come back to me. But it doesn't matter how many times I beg who's ever listening or how many times I pray or cry myself to sleep because no matter what I'll wake up the next morning without you. I'll wake up and you'll still be gone and everything will still suck and I'll still want to curl up in a ball and sleep for the rest of my life. Nothing I do will change the fact that you're gone and you're never coming back.