Telling him I was leaving was like firing a gun at an innocent child- it was more painful for the person behind the trigger. I had to muster up every modicum of courage and strength I had just to come here and tell him face to face. It was, needless to say the hardest thing I had to do, and if he had told me to stay because he still loved me, I might have just succumbed to that, but my predictions were correct.

He's moved on, and I was too late.

The elevator door dings open and I quickly pull myself together. No, he's moved on and I can't expect him to just fall back into love. I had my chance, and I let it slipped. I have no one else to blame but myself. I have to move on to, to someone who still loves me and wants to whisk me away. The city is getting much to strangling for me to be walking under the sun. I need to leave.

I arrive at my apartment shortly, and it dawns on me that there is still at least two more prominent people I haven't told yet; my father, and Rachel. How the hell am I suppose to just tell my father that I'm going to be spending two years of my life in a foreign country, with a man I've only ever introduce him to once? Then there's Rachel. She's probably going to use her own experiences to try and change my mind.

I open the door, and am surprised when there are two ladies here. "Well if it isn't lady bottom Hummel," Santana greets me with a sarcastic smile.

"Hi Santana," I say sullenly because frankly after channeling all my energy into telling Blaine of my departure, I'm drained.

"Loving the excitement," she rolls her eyes. "Where have you been?"

"Out."

"That's very vague. Is he always this vague?" she turns to Rachel who shrugs. "Were you out being passed around like a bong by a group of closeted daddies-"

"That is such a degrading comment."

"Trademark, Snix," she smiles. "I've only been here thirty minutes and I can already feel you two getting uncomfortable. Clearly you two are either really intimidated by me, or that you're itching to know why I'm here."

"Clearly the latter," Rachel says.

"Well," Santana inhales and a smirk forms on her face. "I've decided to move in."

Rachel's eyes widen in surprise, so does mine. We glance at each other, baffled by her news. "Decided to move in- where?" Rachel ask.

"Duh. Here, Buckbeak."

"Here as in- Kurt and my apartment?"

"This is where here is, right?" Santana frowns as if we're stupid.

"I didn't recall asking you to move in-"

"You didn't," Santana cuts me off. "But clearly this dull joint needs a little Latina energy so henceforth, I'm moving in voluntarily."

"How selfless," Rachel remarks.

"I know, I know. Thank me later. Now where should I settle in?"

"You're serious?" Rachel says. She's doing most of the talking on my behalf because one, I'm still trying to process this. Two, I'm seriously drained from seeing Blaine. "There are only two bedrooms here, Santana. If you want I can set you up on the couch."

"Do I look like I want to be on the couch?" Santana says as if the suggestion was insulting to the very core. "Clearly I need a room."

"Well then clearly you should crack open a newspaper and find an apartment that is actually looking for new tenants. We're fully packed, sorry," I say, finally.

"Listen here female genitalia, why would I go find an apartment on craigslist and be cohabitants with strangers who will probably grope me in the middle of the night when I have two very good friends of mine who obviously have room for me?"

"Good friends? You made me carry your three luggages up even after I told you I have a sprained wrist," Rachel says.

"Allegedly," Santana wavers. "Look, you guys went on and on about how everyone should chase their dreams back when we were in glee, and I realized my dream is to live here and make something of myself as an artist. Now you're eating your words by not wanting to help a fellow glee member out?"

"What happened to coaching mini yous at McKinley?"

"Got into a slap fight with Coach Sylvester so now I'm out. So- roomies or not?"

Rachel glances over at me and I see her pleading at me to say no. I don't know why she thinks the decision should rest upon me. Then it dawns on me- I'm living for Italy on Friday, and when I do, Rachel will have to look for a new room-mate and I know that hassle. If I leave, then Santana can have my room, but I'm not ready to tell her yet though I know I should do it soon. I'm leaving in four days. Time is ticking.

"Fine," I say, hiding my true reason why I'm allowing queen bitch to move in.

"Terrific! Now I think Rachel should start moving out her things-"

"What? No way! Couch-"

"I am not taking the couch!"

"Then you can share the room with me!"

"With your enormous snout that no doubt snores louder than a grenade explosion?"

"Sacrifice is key-"

"I want that room Berry!"

"Enough!" I yell over the bickering cats. "God you guys are acting like two teenage sisters who've been told they have to share the same pair of heels. Santana, you can have my room-"

"And sleep on the bed you have had sex on? Gross."

"Take it or I'll lay you a mat outside the door and you can sleep like a bitch," I smile.

"Fine," she grumbles.

"What about you then?" Rachel ask. "Where will you sleep?"

"Don't worry about me," I say, because I'm honestly trying to work up the courage to tell her that I'm leaving for Italy- for 2 years. The idea scares me but I need to get away- from all of it. Rachel eyes me and my gut knows she knows I'm hiding something.

"Great then!" Santana claps. "I need your nipple plugs and butt clamp and ass cup out of your room ASAP, okay?"

I roll my eyes and stride to my bedroom to begin packing, because apart from packing to Santana can move in, I'm always packing for Italy and just as dreadful I am to surrender my bedroom, is how dreadful I am to leave the city.

But I have to.

---------

"So you're just going to put all your things like this?" Rachel ask, pointing to the pile of my possessions that I have stacked on the corner of the living room.

"I'll work it out tomorrow," I say.

Rachel joins me on the couch where I am passing the time away by watching Real Housewives of Atlanta. It really is entertaining to watch rich people problems. I feel Rachel watching me from the other end she is seated at.

"Where is Santana?" I ask.

"Out," she tells. "Funny how she just got here yet she has plans already."

"Probably to a dyke bar or something," I say and laugh to myself.

"Kurt?" Rachel says

"Hm?" I say nonchalantly, pretending to focus more on the TV.

"What's going on?" she ask.

"What do you mean?" I say, though my heart is pouring. Fuck, why must Rachel have a keen sense to know when I'm hiding something.

"You gave your room up to Santana. You love your room, and Santana is the last person you would give it to. I was prepared to share my room with her. Are you- moving out or something? I'm assuming, to Gabe's?"

I inhale deeply and turn the television off. Manhattan is bustling beneath us, police sirens every now and then. It's late, probably eleven but I have to tell Rachel. The sooner the better, honestly. I turn to her, folding my legs and try to brace myself for her reaction.

"Yes, I am moving-" I say, taking my time because that last bit might be a game changer. "- to Italy."

Brown eyes widen in complete surprise. "What- why? Because of Santana?"

"Of course not because of Santana!" I say. "I'm going- with Gabe."

Rachel looks positively confused, and frankly so am I. This decision is crazy rash, and it was determined by the need to getaway. A dangerous reason to be honest, but I have to do this. Seeing Blaine, being in the same room with him kills me enough, I have to get away. At least until I've outgrown what I've let myself feel again. Putting distance between him am I might be the key for me because I dang sure can't force him to feel something that he's grown from. That's not fair to him.

"Why? Are you eloping?" Rachel says with wide eyes.

"No, Rachel," I say exhaustedly.

"Then why the heck for?"

I contemplate telling her the real reason, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid she might take action to stop me from going, and I have to go. Staying equals to pain when you've finally let yourself feel for someone who one felt for you, only to be too late.

"A break, I guess."

"From what?"

"Just- to get away. Italy sounds appealing and maybe I'll have fun for two years," I say.

"Two years? You're going for two years?" Rachel says in shock. "Kurt, are you sure about this? I didn't know you and Gabe were so serious."

"Yeah."

"What about- Blaine?"

I swallow the lump that formed in my throat. Just hearing his name stings somehow. What happened to our friendship, sometimes I find myself sitting and reminiscing about how things were simpler.

"I've told him," I say.

"That wasn't what I meant," Rachel sighs. "I meant- what about all the things that has happened between you and Blaine?"

"Things just- are distant between Blaine and I and frankly..I think it's going to stay that way."

"But didn't he- fall in love with you, Kurt?"

The reminder. The reminder of how I missed that chance. How I let it slipped through my long webbed fingers. Things might have been different now if I had allowed myself liberation earlier- now it's too late.

"He did, but he no longer is. I think it's best Blaine and I stay separated- for him."

"Is that why you're leaving?" Rachel says. "To get away from Blaine?"

"No," I lie to her, and frankly trying to lie to myself too. I'd like to believe I'm leaving because I want to, but the truth of it is I am leaving to outgrow this feeling for him, like how he has outgrown them of me. "I'm going because- I love Gabe and he wants to be with me and he loves me and Italy sounds interesting."

"Kurt, if you're going out of love- I mean, take what happened to me-"

"Can you please not bring you in for comparison, please? This is different. You followed Finn because you wanted to sacrifice your career for his. I'm going because I want to, and he's not making me go with him."

"Aren't you doing the exact same thing?" Rachel argues. "You're going out of love, and you're putting your career on a hold for two years!"

"What career? I've been on my back trying to land roles and nothing has come up. I auditioned for that part for Romeo and the entire time they knew they made a mistake. I just- need a real break from everything that has happened in my life."

The stupid memory in that audition room with three of the directors. It was torture, because they watched me with scrutinizing eyes judging me as I went by every line. I found inner peace on that stage though, when I pretended I was actually saying Romeo's words of infatuation to someone I was infatuated with. I won't say who, but I have a good guess you know who. Maybe this is my insecurity talking, but I know in my gut I didn't land the role.

"So you're sure about this then? Italy?"

"I am," I say though with the utmost uncertainty.

"It's a bit decision you know."

"I know that," I say. "But I've decided."

"Well," Rachel shrugs. "I guess there is nothing that can change your mind. I'm going to miss you though. Italy is too expensive for me to go visit you."

I manage a smile, glad she's less insistent on making me stay that I initially anticipated.

"When do you leave?" she ask.

"Friday."

"This coming Friday?" her eyes are wide in disbelief again.

"Yes."

"Jeez, were you ever going to tell me at all?"

"I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to."

Rachel sighs heavily and takes my hand into hers. "I just- want to make sure that you're doing this because you want to and not because you feel like you owe it to Gabe to follow, or that you're running away from-- a possibility. Go because you really do feel you want a break and enjoy Italy."

Oh lord. I just want to scream it at her face, tell her that I don't want to go, but circumstances have shown and all I want to do right now is get out, not because I want to, but because I have to. It hurts to be reminded that I was too late.

"That said- I'm going to miss you terribly," Rachel says and she tears up.

"I'm going to miss you too," I say and wrap her into a hug I've been needing for days maybe even weeks.

----

Morning arises- a day closer to Italy. When you wake up, there is this short span where you're in the void between reality, and slumber and everything is just a modicum of troubles to you and all you are left with is content and liberation- but after that second is over, everything rushes back to you like a tidal wave.

The sun rays are streaming through the windows and this couch feels so effing uncomfortable. Santana slept soundly in my cozy, warm bedroom and I envy her for that brief second. My former room, I should get used to saying.

Today marks another day closer to Italy. Three days to be exact. Is it unnerving to know you're about to make a big move, to a foreign country with a man you're trying to fall back in love with? Definitely, yes.

"Good morning sunshine," I hear Rachel call when she emerges out of the bathroom. "How's the couch?"

"Like sleeping on a piece of metal board," I tell. "Why did we get such a horrible couch? Oh right- sale."

"Well, you'll only have to endure it for a few more days since you're moving to Italy soon-"

"What?" a loud shrill of aghast comes from behind us. I turn and Santana is standing at the doorway, dressed in black underwear and a tank. "You're moving to Italy?"

Crap. Damn Rachel and her enormous mouth that both produces talent, but also not knowing when to speak in hushed tones.

"Well?" Santana presses on. "Somebody answer me."

"Yes," I breathe out. "I'm spending the next two years in Italy- with my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend? The ballerina?"

I roll my eyes. You can always expect Santana to make a person sound smaller than he really is. "Yes," I say because I'm too weary to put up an argument.

"I didn't know you guys were that serious? At your graduation I thought he was a tool, now he's whisking you to Italy? He must be really good in bed to get you to leave your favorite city in the world- or are you only going with so you can venture out for Italian meat?"

I simply flick her off.

"When do you leave?" she ask, sounding less humorous now.

"Friday."

"Friday? What's the rush, Hummel? Are you just dying to get away from me?"

I sigh. Not you exactly, I think to myself. I respond with a shrug, though a trying convincing one. I don't know if Santana sees through me, but she's always bragging about some Mexican third eye she has.

"Well then," Santana says. "I hope you have fun eating all the meatballs there. We should throw you a farewell party!"

"What?" I say in aghast. "For me?"

"Duh," Santana rolls her eyes.

"That's- sweet of you," I say in surprise because, knowing Santana, she never throws a party for anyone unless it somewhat beneficial to her.

"Yeah. I mean, two years is a pretty long time so I feel like maybe a farewell party might be good- so everyone can bid you sayonara collectively," she says and I can help but to smile at her nice gesture. Have I been wrong about Santana all this time? "Plus, there's this really hot girl I'm girl I'm trying to land. She works as a singer down at the butch bar- her name's Dani and I'm going use the party to hopefully get my tongue in-between those-"

"Okay we get it!" Rachel interjects before she instilled a really scarring picture into our heads. So I wasn't wrong about Santana- then again, it's still very out of character for her.

"A farewell party is redundant considering I'm only saying goodbye to you two."

"What about Frodo Baggins?"

"Who?" I frown at her in confusion.

"Blaine," she rolls her eyes as if I was suppose to understand her joke. "You're saying goodbye to the hobbit too, right? And what does he even say about this? Do you two not cling on each other's balls?"

"He's- fine with me going," I say and I try to hide the fact that I wish he wasn't. No- I can't think that.

"He is?" Santana frowns, not believing me- to be honest even I car believe he's okay with it.

"Yeah," I shrug.

"Well okay then! Farewell party we will host! Kurt, pretend you don't know shit and be surprised, okay?"

I roll my eyes and steal a glance at Rachel, who is watching me- as if waiting for me to blurt out a truth she's been waiting for. I gulp at her intense brown eyes that are fixated on me.

"Well, I have to get going then."

"Where exactly?" I frown at her.

"Aren't like you losers, I have things to do."

She journeys back into my bedroom and I am left in the living room with Rachel who still has her eyes on me. It's eerie to be honest. Makes me so bloody nervous.

"Have you told your dad yet?" Rachel asks.

"Nope," I say and am reminded of another dreadful task. "But I'm going to. Like right now."

I pick my phone up and head out to the fire escape. Things like this- I need fresh air first to calm myself down, and to brace myself for whatever that is going to happen at the end of this phone call. I scroll through my contacts and rest upon one that reads 'Dad.'

"Hello?" my father replies cheerily. I forgot how much I miss him.

"Hey dad," I say.

"Kurt? Hey kid!" he sounds so genuinely happy to hear from me. Only a father can hold that tone, and give that feeling. "How you've been?"

"I've been okay," I tell.

"What's wrong?" he says in alarm. "You sound like the time your McQueen boots or whatever, got lost in the mail."

"Do I?" I say, trying to drag on telling him.

"Yes, you do. All sad and depressed. What's wrong?"

I inhale deeply, shut my eyes as if I'm about to cliff dive. I'm not actually at the edge of a cliff, but the feeling of leaping off with a chance of getting hurt is there. "I need to tell you something."

"Do I need to sit down for this?"

"Probably."

"What is it?"

"I'm going to be spending the next two years- in Italy," I tell and my heart might as well have fallen out of my chest.

"What?" my father says and I can already hear is disapproval tone. "Why? Like in that stupid movie eat, pray, love that you made me watch? What's next, India?"

"No, dad," I say. "I just want to- travel abit."

"Travelling implies you're going to multiple countries in the span of two years. You're only going to Italy. Why is that?"

I inhale deeply. I hate how my father is so attentive and observant to every single thing. You know, most people wish their parents would care for them more, because of their incessant need for love and attention, but me- that's not the case. I wish my father would care less and not be so Castle in my life.

"I'm going because I want to go, dad. I'm going with my boyfriend."

"That Gabe guy?" my father says his name as if Gabe was a squashed insect on his wind shield.

"Yes, that Gabe guy. My boyfriend Gabe," I say and to be frank, that title just feels meaningless to me now after all the lying and cheating I've done to him. Maybe Italy can be my clean slate.

"Are you two even that serious for you to be shipping yourself off to Italy to be with him?"

"That's not what I'm doing, dad. I actually want to go because I want to go- I'm not going because of him," I tell.

"What the hell is there in Italy for you anyway? I don't think they have much of an established Broadway industry."

"I know," I say. "I'm also going- because I want a break, I guess. After graduating NYADA, I just- I don't know, want to reward myself with a trip."

"Then come back to Lima or something! Go to California and enjoy the beach! Go to Bali and get a tan. Why Italy, and for two years? It makes no sense, and definitely very out of character for you!"

"Dad, can you relax-"

"No I won't relax! You want to waste two years of your life in Italy why the hell for."

"It's just something I need to do, dad," I say and I find myself realizing how I've said this for what feels like the thousandth time. To myself mostly. I need to do this, and the reason behind that shall remain hidden from anyone else.

"What about Broadway then?"

"It will still be here when I get back, I hope," I tell my father. "Dad, it's not like I'm dropping out the face of the universe. It'll basically be like me living in New York, and you in Lima. The separation still will be the same, and I'll still go down to Lima every few months to see you. I just- this Italy trip is what I need right now."

"Did something happen?" my father ask.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"Did something happen in New York? That's why you want to leave? When you were a kid, all you ever talked about is living in New York, now that you're there, you want to leave. I can't help but to wonder if you're- running away from something you don't want to confront."

"I'm not, dad," I tell him, and it pains to lie to him.

"That does not sound convincing."

I sigh tiredly. I need to wrap up this conversation because as much as I hate doing things that makes my dad unhappy, I need to do this.

"Dad, you raised me to be independent, to be wise- to be able to make decisions on my own, and this is one of it. It may not be the best decision, and it might even bring repercussions later- but how will I learn if I don't let myself make a few mistakes? I have to do this, dad. For me. I have to do this for me."

He takes awhile to contemplate this- my words. Feels like forever when I be completely honest with my father and I'm waiting on whether he becomes even more angry, or he calms a little. New York is loud and bustling outside as I stand, towering over everyone else on this fire escape landing.

"You're right," my father sighs. "I just- want to make sure you're going because you want to go, and not because you're running away from something."

"I'm not," I say and this time I muster every bravery I have to convince him that that is the truth.

"Well okay then," he says. "When do you leave?"

"Friday."

"That's really soon."

"I know," I say. "I'm sorry this sounds too rushed. Just didn't know how to tell you."

"It's okay," my father says. "I wish I could be there to send you off, but Carol's brother passed away recently and she's in a pretty bad shape."

"It's fine, dad. I'll call you when I'm about to leave, okay?"

"Okay," my father sighs and I know his disapproval still lingers. "You be careful over there, alright? I've always been able to trust you, so I hope I can trust you to take care of yourself. And do not lose contact with your old man here."

"I won't, dad. I promise whole heartedly."

"Okay then," my father says. "Take care of yourself over there, and come back in two years- understand?"

"Yes dad," I say exasperatedly.

"I can't believe I'm actually letting you do this."

To be honest, I can't believe I'm actually doing this either, but some people have to do things they don't want to- to survive.

"Bye dad, I love you and I miss you."

"Same here kid. I love you, and stay safe. I expect daily reports once you're there."

"Sounds troublesome."

"It's compulsory," he says sternly.

"Goodbye dad, and send my regards to Carol."

"I want to be talking to that Gabe guy before you guys leave, got it? Get him to call me."

"Okay," I say.

"Stay safe, kid."

"Bye dad."

-----------

"Hey Blaine," Clara enters my office. "I was going to ask you something."

"Yeah?" I say.

"Could I maybe have Friday off? I have plans- with someone."

"Someone special?" I smirk.

"You could say that," she blushes.

"My oh my, Clara Jenkins. When did you land yourself a man?"

"Don't murder me," Clara says. "But I'm actually going out with one of your friends."

"Who?" I frown and for a split second I wonder if it's Cooper. I trust him whole heartedly now, of course and he's doing extremely well in the department, but still- old accusations die hard. Then again, she did say 'friend'. I don't know what I'm thinking.

"Puck," Clara tells and I choke on my own saliva.

"Puck? As in Noah Puckerman?" I spit his name out and Clara shyly blushes.

"How?"

"Well, you remember the time we slept together that one time?" she ask, and though I wish I had forgotten about the mental image of my assistant Clara, whom I trust and basically depend on, fell for a Puckerman charm. "Well he called me a few weeks ago, and we've been going on Skype dates, but he'll be in New York on Friday and we're going out for dinner."

"Skype dates?" I frown. "That sounds legitimate."

"It is!" she argues. "I've gotten to know him pretty well over Skype, and to be honest, he's really an okay guy. I'll admit, I was a little hesitant after the whole not calling me back thing, but I'm not that kind of girl. Sometimes people just need one night stands."

"Yeah," I say, and though I disapprove completely of dating Puck, that last part I fully can relate. "So, Friday? Why is he coming here on Friday?"

"I don't know that," she shrugs. "But I'm excited to see him."

"You're grinning like a thirdteen year old girl excited for her first date, Clara."

"I'm sorry! I'm just excited alright!"

"Fine," I say. "And yes, you can have Friday off. In fact, I'm not coming in on Friday too."

"Why not?" she tilts her head and wonder for a second, but because I've told her what's going down on Friday, she quickly swallows back her words. "Oh- okay."

"Yeah," I say, because Kurt is leaving on Friday. Although I should drown myself with work on that day, I don't know- I just know I won't be able to function. Plus, I think sending Kurt off would be good closure for us- even though it will literally kill every single fucking cell in my body.

"Well, I'm leave you then. Thanks again, and Blaine?" she says. "I know Friday's going to be hard, but remember it's still not too late."

I should press on, but some part of me knows what she means. I've contemplated that, but Kurt is leaving because he wants to, and that is a clear indication of how he feels for me. He doesn't want to be with me, otherwise he would be staying here. No, he chose Gabe. Not me. I need to remind myself of that.

"Thanks Clara," I sigh. "Now get back to work."

"Bossy," she frowns.

She leaves my grand office and I am once again, left alone with my thoughts. Thoughts on what, you might ask? Well, really there's only about one person- Kurt Hummel. My former best friend, my recently discovered love of my life, my wonderwall. That is what he is, isn't he? My wonderwall. See, they say if you love something, or someone, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours to keep. I'm choosing to go with that, after all the bits of advice I've gotten from everyone. I'm choosing this one to go with.

My cell phone rings then, and it pulls me from my reverie. I check the ID, my heart half hoping it's my wonderwall, but it isn't. In fact, it's a rather unexpected number. I've been getting a lot of unexpected surprises these days, what gives? I press the Answer button anyway.

"Hello?" I say, a little fearfully.

"Hey Frodo."

"Hi to you too, rip off of Miss actual Lopez."

"How are you doing in the elite part of New York?"

"Just fine," I say. "How is McKinley? Still whipping those Cheerios into shape?"

"Not anymore hobbit," she says. "I'm officially a New Yorker."

"You can't call yourself a New Yorker unless you've gotten mugged, groped, yelled at for absolutely no reason and steal other people's cabs."

"Screw you," she says. "I've living in New York now. With Barbara and lady lips."

"Since when?"

"Since two days ago," she says. "I've moved- officially."

"And why is that?"

"Maybe because New York is incomplete without a stunning, confident, talented latino?"

"I think we have Pitbull."

"You don't even know his ethnicity," she says. "Anyway, sidetracked- I'm calling you to invite you to the farewell party we're hosting for Kurt."

"Oh," I say. That should explain why Puck is coming to New York then. "Who else did you invite?"

"Just a few people, plus a few other people I befriended here in the city."

"Judging from the last time you were here, there's probably going to be a mob of people I don't know."

"Whatever," she says. "Be here tomorrow, at nine PM. See you then."

"Wait," I say. "So Kurt's- really leaving then?"

"For Italy with his tutu boyfriend, yeah," she says and I cannot force down my laughter.

"You don't like him?" I ask.

"Don't know him much, but yeah- not really," Santana tells and somehow it makes me comforted that I'm not the only one who dispises him. "So, be here, alright?"

"I'll try," I say.

"Don't try, you idiot. It's lady Hummel that's leaving. Get your ass down here tomorrow."

"I'll try to make it, okay Santana?"

"Good," she says. "And do me a favor? Since you're one of my richest friends, please bring all the alcoholic beverages you own. The shit you have to keep in a cellar, got it?"

"Okay," I say.

"Good, see you."

A farewell party. For Kurt. As much as I want to go, let me be selfish here for a second. It's going to be so hard being in a room where the main subject is about bidding goodbye to Kurt, my wonderwall- so I've only recently discovered. Should I join in the manra and wave goodbye to the possible love of my forever, my best friend, or should I ditch this to avoid even further heartache?

----------------

"Can you believe we're just a few days away from saying sayonara to everybody?" Gabe asked me, the night before my farewell party.

"Yeah," I say, because I can't form proper conversation topics when it comes to this subject. Not that I want to show him my hesitation, but because the idea scares me and I don't want to be saying the wrong thing.

"We're going to be staying at this beautiful villa the company I'm going to be under has set me up with. There's a pool, a patio- it's going to be amazing, Kurt, and even more amazing that you'll be there with me," he says. "I'm really glad you decided to come with me."

"Me too," I say and even I don't believe myself, but this man loves me- beyond himself, and if I'm looking for a way to outgrow feelings that should have stayed in a locked chest in the first place, maybe dedicating my heart to someone who loves me equally back would do the trick.

"Have you packed?" he asked.

"Most of my things, yeah," I say. "I still can't believe all my clothes were able to fit into boxes. Surreal at it's best."

"You don't have to bring a lot of clothes," he says. "I'll get you sexier clothes once we're there."

"That's fine," I say. "I should really start finding jobs at Italy."

"Job?" Gabe frowns as if I'm crazy. "Why would you do that?"

"Because two years is a long time, and I want to be financially covered?" I say matter-of-factly.

"You don't need all that shit," he says. "I'll cover whatever you need."

"Gabe, I'm not going to depend on your money for my survival there, you know? I'm not a doting housewife, and I'm definitely not going to sit around in a villa for two years while you're out doing your things. I'm getting a job, end of discussion."

He contemplates my words, and though I know he disapproves, which I admit, is a little sweet, he drops the subject completely. Of course I'm going to find a job. What am I? An apron wearing mother of three who sits home and knits and sends his kids to soccer matches? No way no how. The idea of Italy though- scares the living shit out of me.

"What did my father say on the phone earlier?" I ask Gabe because earlier today, I had told Gabe to call my father up because he demanded to talk to Gabe before we left. I don't know what he was going to say- probably give empty threats to my boyfriend, but that's my father for you.

"He simply told me to make sure to look out for you, make sure you're safe, and to be bring you back in two years. I'm surprised he's okay with this though. He always seemed like the uptight father to me."

"You've met him once," I point out.

"Yeah, well first impression is everything, right?"

"We first met when I threw a coffee at you when you were being an asshole, remember? If that testament is true, then you're actually an asshole."

"Am I?" he smirks.

"Still debating on that," I smirk in return.

"I'm glad your father sort of approves though. I thought I would have to talk to him and basically beg him to let me take his fine, fine son to Italy with me, but he's pretty okay with it. Maybe because he likes me that much," Gabe shrugs.

"Or that he trust me," I say.

"Yeah, that too," he says. "Anyway, what about Blaine?"

I gulp- what I always do when Gabe and I talk about anything pertaining Blaine. "What about him?"

"I mean, what did he say when you told him? Or have you told him?" Gabe ask. I want to opt out of this inquisition so badly. It makes my palms sweat.

"Yeah, I did," I tell him, and I decide on the truth. There is nothing to lie about, right? At least, about telling him. "He said have fun."

"Have fun?" Gabe frowns. "You sure he actually said that?"

"Yeah," I say.

"That's- odd," he says.

"Why is it odd?"

"I mean, sure I expected some resistance from your father, because well he's your father- but I expected the most to come from Blaine. It's odd that he would send you off with a casual 'have fun' like that. I imagined him to chain you down in New York and made sure you didn't go. Did something happened between you two?"

"Why would you say that?" I say, and here comes the sweat again.

"Well, like I said- he's letting you go just like that."

"No, nothing happened between us," I tell him. "He just- I guess he understands how much you mean to me, and how it's my decision to go."

"That's- mature of him, I guess. I'm glad he's not standing in the way then."

"Yeah," I say.

I know what you must be thinking- what am I doing pretending to love this person when I've so bluntly professed and confessed my devotion for another, but here is the thing you do not understand; I want to feel loved. I know it sounds pathetic, but it was hard for me to find someone who loved me in the first place, and when I found Gabe, I thought he was everything, but then I came to a realization that love has been there all this while, but I was too late- and if I be truthful now, I'll probably lose both. So I'm choosing Italy, because of this man, Gabe, can love me so profoundly, I can learn to love him again- like how I initially did.

"In two days, we're leaving in two days," he whispers into my ear as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls in me so my butt is pressed against his crotch. "Two days we'll be making sweet fucking love in Italy."

"Yeah," I breath out.

In two days, I'll be away from everything and everyone I know. In two days, I will be living in a foreign country with a man I'm trying to love again. In two days, I will be away from all of it- away from him, away from being reminded I was too late. In two days.

----------

"Santana, who exactly are all these people?" I basically have to shout over the loud, robot music Santana has blasted. It's nauseating, whoever made this kind of music, and the fact that these strangers are dancing to this trash.

"What?" Santana shouts back to me, from the table she's dancing on. "I didn't hear you!"

"Clearly! Turn the damn music down or my landlord's going to kick everyone out-" I shout, but before I even manage to complete that sentence, there I see Mister Montry, at the far corner of my apartment, macking out with some random blond girl. Can this apparent farewell party get any worse?

"Relax, Hummel! They're all here for you!"

"Really? Because I know none of these people!"

"What are you talking about?" a rather familiar voice shouts back to me. "You know me!" I turn around and Puck is standing there. He's bald now, and a little pudgy, but still- Puck.

"Puck? What are you doing here?"

"To say farewell to my boy Kurt of course!" he says and he wraps me in a tight hug, and for a second I am flattered and touched that he's actually bidding me farewell properly, like a friend would, but I smell the alcohol on his breath. He's drunk. This is a drunk hug.

"Okay, thanks," I say. "But seriously- who are all these people?"

"Oh, hang on," Santana says. She jumps from the table and grabs me around my wrist. "Follow me- I want you to meet someone," she says and she tugs me through the crowd of dancing zombies to bad robot trance music. I swear I know nobody, except Rachel who is also on the kitchen counter dancing. What has gotten into her? Alcohol, probably.

"Kurt, this is Dani," she introduces the girl with the blond hair and black roots, she wears thick make-up, a little on the heavier side but more voluptuous than fat. She has dark brown eyes and an adorable, wide smile. "She's the girl I told you about."

"Oh, the one you're interested in?" I whisper.

"Yes," she says with glee.

"Hi Dani, nice to meet you."

"So you're Kurt then?" the girl Dani says. "Santana told me how you two have been friends since forever and that she's so sad that you're leaving."

"She did?" I say, my eyes wide at Santana, who scowls back at me.

"Yeah. Well, I hope you have fun in Italy, Kurt," she smiles and she looks so sweet. Why not help Santana out, right?

"Thank you, and in my absence, I do hope you keep Santana company," I smile at her.

"I will," she says and I see a gleam in Santana's eyes. Did I really just help Santana land a possible girlfriend?

"Thanks Hummel, and have fun in Italy with that ballerina of a boyfriend you have. Though, I should tell you to keep him on a shorter leash," Santana says and she nudges her chin to the direction where my boyfriend is standing at the corner, chatting it up with a blond guy who wears a meshed tank top. I walk over to him then.

"Hey," I say and he quickly snaps out of his trance. Was her flirting?

"Kurt, hey," he says. "Urm, this is my boyfriend, Kurt," he introduces me.

"Andrew," the blond guy says and I can almost see his disappointment in his eyes upon being told that I am Gabe's boyfriend. "So you're the lucky guy here going to Italy with Gabe?"

"Yeah, he is," Gabe says and I can't fight the urge to frown at him.

"Well, I hope you two have a good time with each other," the blond guy winks at me and I want to barf at his face so bad.

I look around this room, at the strangers dancing in my apartment, spotlight flickering everywhere and this profound anxiety forms inside of me. They're all here to say goodbye to me, because I'm going off to somewhere I don't even really want to go to. The walls feel like they're closing in on me suddenly, and everything that I'm leaving behind suddenly comes to focus. My apartment, my life- I'm leaving my life behind to start a new one in a foreign country with a guy who is my second choice. I can't breathe.

"You okay babe? You look pale?" Gabe ask.

"Fine- I just need some air," I stammer through and I shrug out of his hold and make my way around the room. Why the fuck are there so many people in here. They're not even here for me. I feel a hand grasping around my arm then and I shrug it away, but soon realize it's Rachel.

"Hey, are you okay?" she ask, looking at me with concern.

"No, I'm not," I say and I basically push my way through the crowd, shouting obscenities every now and then until I reach the window. I climb out to the fire escape and dash up the slippery stairs, all the way up to the rooftop. What am I doing. I don't feel comfortable leaving. I don't feel secure doing this. It kind of feels like you're swallowing something you're uncertain of.

Up here feels better. I need quiet right now. I need peace. There is already a war going on in my brain, I don't need party people on my apartment making me feel claustrophobic. What is happening to my life. I'm actually going to go through with this, aren't I? Italy. What hadn't I just let myself feel for Blaine, when the feelings were mutual?

I hear it then, the soft creaking of rusted metal from the stairs. Honestly, if it's Gabe, I know he's just going to tell me how it's all going to be okay once we're in Italy, going on about sweet fucking love or whatever. I just- cannot deal with it right now. Right now, I just need to remind myself why I'm living. I need separation, time to outgrow feelings that should have stayed locked up.

"Roof occupied!" I shout, but the person ignores me and climbs up anyway, until he emerges from the edge. His head pops up first, and I gulp so hard I might have torn my air tube. "Blaine?"

"Hey, there you are," he say, and maybe it is the Blaine effect, or maybe because my subconscious have been wanting to see him, but I relax a little.

"Wh- what are you doing here?"

"Well," he says when he fully climbs onto the edge of the roof. He's carrying something in his hands- a huge, brown paper bag with black straps. "I am here for your farewell party, but Rachel told me you went up here when I arrived, so since I'm here for you and not for the MTV awards going on in your apartment right now, hi," he smiles a wide grin that makes me forget my worries for a split second. "Why are you up here?" he ask, tilting his head.

"Just- needed air, I guess."

"From the pungent smell of tequila?"

"Somewhat," I shrug.

He strides towards me, and I cannot pull my gaze away from his eyes. Brown, warm, a little comical to be honest. I've missed those eyes watching me with compassion, with complete protection- and most importantly, love.

"Is this seat taken?" he ask, with a slight smirk on his face. He looks good in his navy suit. I gesture for him to take the empty plane of gravel next to me. He falls and quietly sits next to me. It feels nice having him beside me, but at the same time so unnerving. "So, why are you all sad?" he ask.

"Sad?"

"I always know when you're sad, Kurt."

"Because of your dark abilities?"

"That, and because your eyes are all red rimmed," he says. "What's wrong?" he ask in a gentle, compassionate tone that honestly makes me just want to fall into his arms and tell me that things will be okay- or that he hasn't outgrown his feelings for me yet. But no, I can't do that. I have to keep my composure. If he can move on, so can I.

"Just- a little bit nervous for the move I guess."

"You can always- not go, you know. Unless he's forcing you to go with him?" Blaine ask, and he sounds more tensed than ever.

"No, he's not. I'm choosing to go."

"Well, here's an attempt to make you smile again," he says and he hands me the big brown paper bag. "A farewell gift," he grins.

"What is it?"

"Look inside, and you'll know."

I ruffle inside the paper bag and pull out the contents. There is about seven different types of shirts inside, all with different colours. But all with one brand.

"Figured you would want to wear fancy things when you're there," he shrugs nonchalantly.

"So you bought me seven Paul Jobskins dress shirts?"

"Is it a little too much?"

"Blaine- I can't take this. It must have cost you a fortune-"

"Of course you will take it! I bought it for you."

"It's too much money! One of these shirts alone can put shelters over like twelve African families."

"Then that's your call. I'm giving them to you. However you choose to put them to use is solely up to you."

"Blaine-"

"Kurt, just take it- okay?"

I look at the pile of fresh new clothes he got me. You know, I hate when he spoils me with things I can't afford- like clothes and expensive restaurants and that TV he claimed he didn't want anymore but I won't deny that I've sort of missed it, and I see these gifts completely different this time.

"You're really that keen to get rid of me, aren't you."

"What?" Blaine frowns.

"I get it. You just want me out of your life already."

"Are you crazy, or high?" Blaine says. "In what world would I ever say that."

"In a way, you actually did once."

"That was under- a different circumstance," he says. "If I had my way, Kurt, I would chain you down and not let you leave- the city. But if you feel like you want to go, and there's nothing- holding you back, then I can't stop you. Is there- anything that's holding you back?"

The moment is here. Do I tell him? I feel like I should, but what if he really he outgrown what he once felt for me? Then I would have let the truth out and he would know I'm leaving because of him, but in a parallel universe- one inside a mirror, I would be screaming- Yes Blaine! Yes there is something holding me back! Is that I want you, but you don't feel for me anymore!

"No," I manage to choke out a lie.

"Well then," he sighs. "Then I'm in support of Italy."

Why does it feel like I'm being rejected? I have said nothing to be able to be rejected, but despite that I still feel that way. Just being in this close proximity with him is hard. Distant would be the best thing ever- so I want to believe.

"Do you remember the first time we discovered this rooftop though?" Blaine ask, and he pulls me out of my reverie.

"Yeah," I say. "It was a few days after I had landed this apartment, and we had wanted to see that whole Manhattanhenge phenomenon."

"Yeah. And we never did."

"But it was a good night."

"We fell asleep here, if I recall correctly."

"We did, though despite how loud and bustling New York is, it was your snoring that kept me up."

"I don't snore!" Blaine argues.

"You do," I say.

"I'll put a recorder next to me tonight and find out myself."

"You do that, and let me know," I say.

"You'll be in Italy by then," he says and he sounds sullen.

"There's always voice memos you can send," I say.

"You don't know just how much I'm going to miss you, Kurt."

It kills. It fucking kills when he says things that show glimpses that he still feels what he did for me, but I know that is out the window. Nobody would wait for me that long, because I'm not worth the wait.

"Can we go on skype dates?" he ask.

"What the flying unicorn are skype dates?"

"It's when you go on skype and see each other if you live really far away from people that you- care about. I don't know? Maybe it could be a way we can still keep in touch."

"Yeah, of course," I say, and despite saying it- I want distant and separation. I don't tell him this yet, because I know when I leave he'll go on with his life.

"I heard the Manhattanhenge is happening again this Friday."

"Snap a picture for when the sun aligns with the streets of Manhattan, will you?" I ask.

"I will," he says. "Still can't believe tomorrow is happening."

"Why?" I ask.

"You really have to so, huh?"

"What do you mean-"

"Kurt?" a voice comes from the ladder up the roof. Gabe's figure emerges from the edge and he looks across from Blaine and I. "There you are."

"Sorry," I say. "Just needed- fresh air."

"Yeah, I can see that," he says and he eyes Blaine. "Hi Blaine."

"Sup Gabster."

"So, Rachel wants to give a farewell speech for us. Come on," he tells.

"Okay," I say and I turn to Blaine.

"Go ahead. I'll be there in a sec," he says.

"Okay," I say and I follow my boyfriend. I turn around to sneak a last glance to Blaine who is seated on the ground, watching the stars this time. It hits me now what I'm leaving behind; my best friend more than anything.

"Okay everyone! They're here!" Rachel shouts over the music to get everyone's attention when we arrive back down to the apartment. "Okay quiet! Quiet! Turn the music down!"

Puck switches off the stereo and everyone settles into a mild silence. Rachel climbs onto the table as clears her throat for even more attention.

"Well, it still feels surreal that you're leaving, Kurt, but I guess when you find the right one- you'd do anything, right? We've all been fools of love-"

"Okay Rachel, get on with it," I say because her monologue already made me feel uncomfortable.

"Okay, well all i wanted to say is that I hope you two have good, nice time in Italy- and Gabe, please take care of my bestfriend," she says. "Here's to Kurt and Blaine- oh, I mean Gabe!"

I glare at her so bad I could've vaporized her if I was cyclops from the X-Men team. I sneakily glance over to Gabe standing behind me, and his tensed smile tells a thousand tales. Then I look over to Blaine, who is standing in the far corner near the window from where we came from the rooftop, and he's marvelling at the ground- but I see the corners of his lips upturned. I can't help but smile myself.

"Sorry about that," Rachel says when she walks over to us, but he gives a subtle wink to me which makes me gulp. "Have fun in Italy, okay? I'm gonna miss you!"

"I'm gonna miss you too, Rachel," I say and she pulls me into a hug.

"That was not accidental, by the way," she whispers quietly to me and I grip her back so hard she pulls way from me and smiles cheekily.

"Well, that was a shit speech," Gabe whispers to me.

"Hey come on, it was sweet of her,"
I say but Gabe only raises his eyebrows.

"Kurt?" I spin quickly because that is a voice I always long to hear. "I gotta bounce."

"Gotta bounce? What is that? Your new catch phrase?" I say to Blaine.

"If it was, then this would be the first as last time you would hear it," he says. "I hope you'll be happy there."

"I hope so too," I say under my breath, and before I can catch myself, I am pulled into an embrace in which I fall completely into.

I've missed these arms around me. This comfort, this security. I've missed his warmth, his goofy radiance. I've missed him mostly, and the fact that I'm leaving for Italy, leaving him- it kills me, but I know I have to, but for now I will savour this moment. He always has this affect when he hugs me- the whole everyone-slowly-fades-into-a-blur effect when he hugs me, or any form of affection. Until he pulls way and I'm back on concrete ground.

"Take care of him, alright?"

"Will do," Gabe says.

"I can't get out of work tomorrow, but what time is your flight?"

"Five," I tell.

"I can't be there to send you off. I have work, but call me before you go?"

"Okay," I say.

"Bye Kurt," he says. "I'm going to miss you so fucking much."

"I'm gonna miss you too," I say and he pulls a tired, dejected smile before he turns and leaves the room. As I watch him go, I can't shake the realization that this will probably be the last time I'll see him.

------------

Fuck, that was painful having to say goodbye to him as if him leaving is not going to leave a huge fucking void in my heart that will never be filled again. I had to keep my composure. I don't want him to think I'm pathetic to be all weak about him leaving.

No. He doesn't want me, and I have to accept that.

"Blaine!" I hear a voice call after me just I emerge out of Kurt's building. I spin around, and to my surprise, see Gabe running after me. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

"Urm- yeah, sure," I say, a little uncertain.

"Look, I need you to be honest with me about something. I've wanted to ask you this for the longest of time, and now I think it's about time I do."

"Is it about the way you dress? Because that's Kurt's area of expertise," I joke, because he sounds too serious and I don't know how to handle it.

"I'll just come right out and ask you," he inhales deeply. "Are you in love with Kurt?"

My eyes go wide at him. My chest feels tighter somehow and despite being on the side walk, in an open area, it still feels like there is a lack of air around here.

"What?" I say. "Why would you-"

"Don't lie to me, alright? You know every single thing about him. The time I came to you to asked you about things Kurt is fond of so I can do them for him on Valentines made him fall in love with me. I've watched you, and even though you and Kurt choose to believe it's because you have a protective nature over him, I believe it's something more and so I'm asking you- flat out right now. Are you in love with Kurt."

"Gabe-"

"Just answer the goddamn question, Blaine. Please. I need to know this."

"Why?" I ask. "You've got him! He's going to bloody Italy to be with you! How is this important?"

"Just answer me," he says.

I stare into his eyes, and I can't read what lies beneath them. What is his agenda here? It doesn't make sense why he would consider whatever I feel for Kurt. He won, so why does it matter who lost? Throughout his relationship with Kurt, he's been uncomfortable with me around- so why now? It doesn't fucking make sense.

But I should answer- but what do I answer? The truth? That I am irrevocably and utterly in love with Kurt? That I want him to be with me and not this fucking guy? However the case, it won't end well for me, so I choose the option that would make me look less like a pathetic loser.

"No, I'm not."

He studies me, and under his scrutiny I just wanted to shirk into a ball and be completely honest- or punch him, but I stay rooted and try to believe my own words.

"Okay then," he says. "Thank you."

"What was the point of this anyway?" I ask just as he is about to disappear into the building.

"I just needed an answer."

"What for?"

"For me, but also for Kurt," he says. "Goodnight Blaine."

"Take care of him, do you understand me?"

"Don't worry. I want what's best for Kurt," he says before he disappears completely into the building and I am left wondering what the hell was that.

----------

I arise from the couch this morning, and it dawns on me that today is the day. The day I'm leaving. It's here. The day I've been dreading? The day I've been anticipating, waiting at the edge of my seat excited? I have such mixed feelings about leaving it makes everything ten times worse.

"Good morning," I hear Rachel greet from the counter.

"Hey," I say.

"You're leaving today," she says.

"Thanks for the reminder."

"You sound dreadful," she says.

Must she be observant all the freaking time? "I'm not, I'm just still exhausted from last night."

"So you say," she shrugs. "Anyway, your movers will be here in a few minutes to pack your things that you want be shipped to Italy."

"My whole life will be at the back of a moving truck."

"Yeah, well," she says. "About my speech yesterday. I did not say what I said out of accident, you know."

"Yeah, you told me that," I say. "Why did you say that anyway? Do you know how uncomfortable you made Gabe feel?"

"Did I? He shouldn't feel threatened," she says in her casual diva remark tone.

"He's not," I defend. "It's still an inappropriate comment."

"Why? Since you claim there is nothing between you and Blaine anyway, and that he's over you, why is it inappropriate? Unless- there still is something still going on between you two?"

I really am not up to be interrogated like this so early in the morning. Plus, what is Rachel hoping to get out from this inquisition? Her suspicions are sometimes really annoying, but mostly because they're so true that is why I get aggravated by them.

"There is nothing going on, okay?"

"So you're not actually running away from him then? You're not running away from the fact that you actually have feelings for him?"

I turned my head so quickly I might have snapped a muscle or a vein. "What are you even talking about? Can you trying to meddle into my life? Honestly."

"I'm not! I'm just saying-"

"You're just saying really inappropriate things that makes me feel confused about my departure and it's pissing me the fuck off. Just leave me the fuck alone because I'm leaving and I don't want to leave and be in bad terms with you. So why don't you just down your damn coffee and shut the fuck up?"

"Whoa, relax-"

My bedroom door creaks open then, and a girl wrapped in a blanket tiptoes out. She has blond hair, and her make-up is smudged all over her face. She looks like she either just had a really, really risqué photo shoot, or that she had the wildest sex of her life the night before.

"Morning Dani," I smile at her, and her chubby cheeks grow crimson.

"Good morning," she says. "Urm- bathroom?"

"It's over there," I point.

"Thanks," she says and she quickly tiptoes away. I glance over at Rachel, who still is taken aback by my slight outburst. Good. I cannot deal with another person making me confused about leaving. Just let me leave in peace, please, because my own mind is making me confused enough. Santana emerges then.

"Good morning guys," she says with a victorious gleam. She's wrapped in my quilt.

"I will never get that room back," I say.

"Not after what happened last night-"

"We really rather not know," I say.

"So, you're leaving later, aren't you? Excited?"

"Yes," I lie.

"Sucks that you'll miss the Manhattanhenge though. It only happens twice a year. I don't know if you guys know this, but it's when the sun perfectly aligns with the streets of New York. It's suppose to be like spectacular."

"Yes, I know about it," I say, and vividly remember my conversation with Blaine last night.

There is a knock on the door then, and Rachel skips to open it. Two huge, bulky guys stand in the doorway, and both their eyes immediately fall upon a naked Santana, wrapped in a blanket. "If you're here to take my things away, they're right there," I say, snapping them out of their trance.

"Oh- okay," one of the guys with a slightly darker shade of hair colour says.

"This is it then," Rachel says. "It's officially going off to Italy."

"Yup," I say, and I cannot digest the fact that boxes of my books are being wheeled out of the front door, and are to be brought to somewhere I don't even know much about yet. Fuck, it's real now. I'm really leaving.

-------------

"So, you're coming here first and we'll go together?" I ask Gabe over the phone, because it's 3PM and we're about to leave. Officially.

"Yeah," he says and he sounds clipped. "Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, okay?"

"Okay?"

I am seated on the fire escape, taking in the final view of Manhattan before I leave this place. I am going to miss New York so much. I know I complain about the crowd, and the noise and the smell a lot but there really is no place like New York once you've lived here for about four years. I can't imagine myself anywhere else.

But I cannot afford to think like that. I'm doing this- I'm leaving, because I have to. Maybe I choose to believe that, but separation is what I need to survive. Like I said, New York is getting heavy on my shoulders and maybe all I need right now is a different set of surroundings.

I need some solace right now, so I call the one person I know that can give me that.

"Hello?" he says through the phone.

"Hi," I say.

"Hey," he says. "Are you- about to leave?"

"Yeah, Gabe is coming here to get me and we'll go together."

"Cool."

"Do you think it's right for me to go?" I ask flat out, because honestly, what do I have to lose right now? I am two hours away from leaving for Italy.

"I think it's right- if you think it's right-"

"Please don't give me responses like that," I say.

"Do you think I should leave?"

He takes a long moment to answer me. It feels like the longest moment ever, but finally he answers.

"Yeah, you should leave. He loves you, and you love him, and maybe you do need a break from intense Broadway training at NYADA. Just- don't forget to come back, okay?"

Was it the response I was looking for? Absolutely not. Had I wish he would professed that he still loved me and that he wants me to stay so we can live together and ride off into the sunet? Maybe, but that is his answer, and that is his final verdict. I should accept- that he wants to leave.

"I won't," I say, and I hear Rachel shouting from inside the apartment.

"He's here- waiting for you downstairs!"

"I have to go," I tell Blaine. "You take care, alright?"

"You too, Kurt."

"Goodbye Blaine."

"Goodbye, Kurt."

I venture back into my apartment, and grab my three luggages, and two carry ons. I don't travel light, sue me? Rachel is waiting by the door, with Santana. There is the door. I'm actually leaving. Fuck, this is too much. I can't stop myself from me emotions this time, so I let the tears fall.

"Hey," Rachel comforts and she is quickly next to me. "You're going to be fine there."

"I know," I say. "Just- can't believe I'm really leaving."

"You want to leave, right? That's what you told me."

"Yeah- yeah, I do," I say and I wished that had convinced me enough.

"We'll help you carry your bags down," Santana says and she grabs one of my luggages and starts descending down the stairs. Rachel is still standing next to me, rubbing up and down my art for comfort. It's not exactly the fear, it's more the realization.

"It's not too late you know," Rachel says.

"Actually it is. I was too late," I say and I sigh heavily as I descended down the stairs with Rachel close behind my footsteps.

The car is waiting downstairs when we emerge from the building. Gabe is helping Santana put my luggages into the trunk and Rachel is still clinging onto my arm. I don't know for moral support, or if she wants me to stay as well. What am I saying- of course Rachel wants me to stay, but that- as bad as it sounds- is not enough.

"Time to go," Gabe says in a gentle tone.

I turn around and wrap Rachel in a death hug. She's tearing as well, reciprocating my hug with the same amount of strength. "Tell him I said goodbye, and take care."

"I will," Rachel says, not even asking who I was referring to, because I know she knows.

Santana welcomes me with open arms as well, to my surprise. "Take care lady lips."

"Thanks, Santana," I sigh. I pull from her embrace and I follow Gabe, who is waiting by the car. He pulls the door open for me, and I sneak a last glance to the two girls standing at the side walk with sad, but encouraging smiles at me. Rachel waves weakly and I respond with the same gesture.

The car door slams shut, and as it speeds away to the airport, it's more profound than I had anticipated. Goodbye New York is what I should be singing out from the sunroof. The car drives past NYADA, and I reminisce of the place I met Gabe- as in, actually meet him. The place I spent four years of my life at. God, I'm actually leaving. I can repeat that statement as many times as I want in hopes that it will be fiction, but it's real.

This has to be the longest drive ever, but soon, we're just outside of JFK, ready for our flight, but when I reach for the door though, Gabe mutters something that makes me stop in my tracks.

"I can't do this," he says.

------------

"So, do you want to get some dinner and watch the Manhattanhenge together on the side walk or-"

"Are we just going to stand here and let Hummel make the biggest mistake of his life!" Santana yells. I turn around and look ather quizzically.

"What are you talking about?" I frown at her.

"Rachel, I don't know if it's that ugly bangs of yours that makes you less attentive than you really are, but my Mexican third eye never lies. Hummel is obviously still in love with hobbit! We have to do something!"

"Still in love? What are you talking about?"

"You and I both know things have happened between those two idiots! I'm talking butt fucking things that was mixed around with emotions! I knew it the second Blaine was all awkward at Kurt's graduation! Tell me you at least noticed that!"

"You knew?" I say in shock.

"Yes I knew you idiot!" Santana yells at me matter of factly. "We can't let him do this, especially since Blaine is still obviously in love with Kurt, and he is too but they're both stupid oblivious gays and well- it's up to us to make them see what they're clearly blind of!"

"Santana, it's too late. He's left!"

"It's not too late if we dash to hobbit's place right now and slap him silly to make him realize that he should be running past gentrys to get to Kurt!"

"Then why are we still standing here!" I say, because Santana is right. How can I not have seen this? I had suspicions about Kurt before he left, but Blaine too. Blaine is still in love with Kurt! I see it now!

"You're such a dumbass. Hail a cab and lets go!"

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I can't believe Kurt is actually leaving- right now. I opted for a more relaxed Friday- louging on the couch, drowning myself with sad, sappy movies because if someone were to walk in on me crying, at least I would be able to use these movies as an excuse to hide the fact that I'm crying of a heart ache.

He asked me earlier, on the phone, if I think it's a good idea if he should leave. I should have went with my gut. I wanted to scream No! But, like I said, I don't want him to think I'm pathetic before he left. And to be honest, my response was complete honestly. It was a selfless repsonse, because with Kurt, I'm always selfless.

Me elevator door dings, and for the shortest of second, I think it's Kurt- but it's an even bigger surprise. Santana strides in, her heels making echoes around my apartment, Rachel in her footsteps. She wears a determined face- a face she only wears when she's on a mission.

"Hey guys- what are you-" before I can finish that sentence, Santana grabs a mug of chocolate milk and literally splashes it at my face. "What the fuck!"

"Was that a wake up call yet?"

"What are you talking about- urgh, my couch!" I say, examining the stain that will no doubt be on the fine, leather material forever.

"Kurt, you idiot! Have you woken up yet?" Santana yells. "You're still in love with Kurt, so why are you sitting here like an idiot letting him get on a plane with some guy?"

"Seriously- what the fuck are you going on about?"

"You're in love with Kurt, yet you're letting him go away with some guy to Italy for two years! That's what's going on!"

"How did you know I was in love with Kurt?" I say in horror.

"Oh please, everyone knows it! I mean, everyone has had their suspicions, but right now, you just confirmed it to me.

"So, I'm in love with him. So what?"

"So- what?" she spit the words out and she reaches at the table for a muffin I had bought from the bakery downstairs and fling it at me. "You're an idiot then!"

"I'm an idiot for letting him go because he wants to? He doesn't love me!"

"You don't know that yet!"

"I do! He has told me!"

"In actual words?"

"Yes!" I say, and Santana contemplates this.

"No, you know what, I don't believe that shit. My third eye never make mistakes, and it sees that Kurt is in love with you! You have to go get him Blaine!"

"Santana," I sigh heavily and fall to my couch. "I'm not going to go get him from the reliability of your stupid third eye. I should let him go, because I love him. That is the selfless thing to do here. It's not love until you do something that hurts you, but is right for the other person."

"You know what? Screw the whole if you love something set it free shit. I'm a firm believer that if you love something so much, it's worth fighting for. Did you think I sat around and wait for Brittany to come back to me? No, I fought with white chocolate trouty mouth for her. Did you think Frankenstein sat around and waited for Berry? No, he fought with that downgraded Magic Mike man for her. Did you think Mister Schue sat around and waited for clean freak Pillsbury? No, he fought too. When you love something, don't sit and wait for it to come to you- fight for it, because love doesn't come easy. So get off your hobbit ass and get your man, before it's too late."

"It's true," Rachel says. "I fell for Finn the most when he fought to be with me, despite everything else."

I process their words, and it dawns on me then. All the of the greatest love stories came with battles of their owns, but they all pressed on and fought to be with each other. I love Kurt- with all of my heart, and even if he doesn't feel the same, it's still worth the shot to let him know how I really feel one last time and let him decide whether he wants to go, or stay here and be with me. i have nothing to lose, except a heartbreak maybe.

"You're right," I say to Santana.

"You're damn right I'm right!"

"I have to get him."

"Yes you do!" Rachel yells. "And now, I suggest, because he's plane leaves in twenty minutes."

"Shit!"

-----------

"Marcus! Step on it!" I yell at him from the backseat, where Santana, Rachel and I are seated at.

"I'm trying, sir, but there's traffic-"

"Use the fucking honk!" Santana pressures.

My adrenaline is pumping. Blood in my veins accelerating in hyper speed. Just five more minutes. He could be the in the plane by now, or the lobby. With any luck, it might even be delayed. I can't be too late- I can't be too late oh god please don't let me be too late.

We finally go over the Queensboro bridge and I can almost see JFK in my midst. Marcus is an amazing driver, granted he's worked in the CIA before so he probably has gone through numerous car chases before, but seriously his driving makes me feel like I'm about to throw up, but I feel safe at the same time. When he pulls up in front of the airport, I dash out and run through the sliding doors.

"There is so many people over here, how the fuck am I suppose to find him?"

"Okay, lets split up- Santana, you check the cafes, Blaine, the waiting area, I'll check the boards to see if his flight has left or not."

"Got it," I say relentlessly and I dash to the waiting area where- again, thousands of people. Where the fuck are people even going? Are they giving out free airplane tickets or something? You know how people can get when there are free things being handed out.

I search the crowds anyway, looking for that familiar coiffed hair, blue eyes, flawless features, moist lips, thinned and perfectly threaded eyebrows, but they are nowhere to be seen. I must look like a freak right now, with PJ pants, and t shirt that is stained with chocolate milk, but right now that is not important. What is important is looking for Kurt.

"He's not in any of the cafes," Santana is beside me suddenly.

"He's not here either!" I shout in exasperation. "God, where the fuck is he!"

"He's left," Rachel says from behind us. We both turn in unison and she's standing there, sullen-looking. "He's plane left five minutes ago- I'm sorry, Blaine."

My whole world basically feels like it crumbled around me. My heart is tight in my chest. That feeling of lack of oxygen settles in again. He's left. He's left- completely. Gone. I was too late, by five fucking minutes. Santana wraps her arms around mine and watches me in concern.

"I'm sorry Blaine," she says, but I cannot form any words right now.

"He's- gone," I say. "He actually chose him."

"I'm sorry," she says again.

"I can't believe I was stupid enough to actually think he would choose me."

"Blaine-"

"I can't believe this- he's actually gone."

I could have repeated that same line forever and ever and it would still not sink in completely. Kurt- my Kurt, has left. And he chose Gabe. He had no feelings for me whatsoever. He chose the other guy.

"He's gone.."

----------

Marcus pulls the car up infront of my building. The drive back was silent, but mostly because I didn't couldn't find the proper words to even comprehend what just happened. I rushed to an airport, like a cliche movie, to profess my love for someone to stop him from going with the wrong guy.

Santana and Rachel were quiet too, but that's because I think they feel like they build up so much hope for me, only to have it crushed. I don't blame them though. I know they came from a good place, but I just wished they hadn't came to my apartment and made me think that there was a possibility that I could make Kurt fall for me.

We emerge out from the car, and I want to drag my feet upstairs and die on my bed to be honest. How do you even function after coming so close to your possibly happily ever after?

"I'm sorry, Blaine," Santana says.

"It's fine."

"It's not actually, but I'll take that."

I manage a weak smile to her.

"Maybe you can call him?"

"I think this was a sign, Rachel," I say. "A sign that maybe Kurt and I really aren't suppose to be together."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, isn't it?" I sigh. "I just- wanna go upstairs right now and be alone. Marcus will take you guys back to your apartment."

"Are you sure you don't want us to keep you company?"

"No thanks. It's fine. I'll see you guys soon, okay?"

"Alright," Santana says and she hugs me again. "I'm still sorry."

"Forget about it," I say. "I know I intend to."

The both of them climb into the car and Marcus drives away. I'm left standing at the side walk, but just as I'm about to go in, I realize everyone is snapping pictures of what lies far ahead of the street. I glance over and I realize what was happening. The phenomenon Manhattanhenge.

This was what Kurt and I wanted to see a few years back, now I'm standing here and watching it myself. I somehow find myself letting go and just admiring how beautiful it is. The sun rays are reflected by the silver on the buildings, and the window panels too. The sky is painted a beautiful orange with freckles of red scattered across the plane. The sun slowly sinks into the ground, gradually disappearing, but before it sets, a familiar voice whispers amidst the beauty.

"Finally get to see it with you," I turn around quickly, as I do whenever I hear that voice, and he stands before me now. Him- the boy with blue eyes, who now have the sun rays reflecting off his stunning optics. His skin glowing with radiance. His immaculately shaped lips turn into a small smile, and a single tear drop lingers down his cheek.

"Kurt?"

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