The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself.

      -Mark Twain

Some days, life can trip you up. Other days, life can shove you so forcefully that you fall, face down into the dirt at your feet and bruise every bone in your fragile, miraculous body. Your heart can be torn out your chest with a single hand and your soul can become this twisted, mangled, whisper of a thing.

Blaine Anderson begins crying so hard on the way home that he has to pull over on the side of the road because he can’t see anything at all.

How could God give him a person as unique, so special and brilliant as Kurt? And how could the Devil dangle a kiss in front of him, a kiss so sweet and precious that he couldn’t stop from running back, quite literally, for one more?

Kurt had asked if Blaine had felt anything when they kissed.

And Blaine had lied.

He had lied with that single shake of his head and he had given into this sudden, swift bout of temptation and fell with that last kiss on Kurt’s front porch.

Everything is wrong. Everything is so mixed up. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Because Kurt smells so good all the time and his eyes are so very, very blue that Blaine wouldn’t mind drowning in them. Kurt is so funny and so lovely. Blaine could spend every single day with him and never tire of his voice or his laugh or his questions about Bible verses and Sunday school songs.

So why does everything have to clash? Why has he never considered any of these new options?

Why does he have to feel this way? Why did he have to like those kisses and why did he lie?

And why was he never told that it wasn’t a choice?

“Mom?” Blaine asks later that evening.

He sits across from her at the dining room table, their Bibles open and notebooks out as they wrap up their nightly Bible study.

“Yes, dear?”

“What-” he swallows his nerves down into his stomach, “have you ever had any of your friends or anyone tell you that they’re – that they’re gay?”

Blaine’s mother pauses as she closes her notebook. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just…I mean, we don’t ever talk about it very often, about homosexuality. I know what the Bible says about it and I know it’s a sin and stuff. But what do you do if you ever meet someone? Who’s gay, I mean. What do you do about it?”

“Did a friend of yours admit to being a homosexual, Blaine?”

“No,” Blaine lies. “I was just wondering.”

“If they didn’t, why the sudden need to ask?” she wonders.

Blaine is quite thrown off by his mother’s reticence to answer his question and that more than anything stirs up more doubts around his previously solidified beliefs on the matter.

“I – I saw two guys holding hands when Kurt and I were having coffee the other day,” Blaine says, also a lie. “Like I said, I was just wondering.”

“How old were they?” his mother asks.

“I don’t know. Older, I guess. Closer to your age.”

“Oh, so I’m old?” his mother teases with a smile, closing her Bible.

“You know what I mean,” Blaine mumbles, still confused as to why she won’t answer.

“I do. Personally, I think all you can do for those men is pray, Blaine. If they’re my age, they’re more likely set in their ways and there’s not much you can do or say to change that.”

“What if they were closer to…my age?” Blaine presses. “Hypothetically. What would you do then?”

“…If it’s a friend of yours, I don’t see any reason why you can’t educate them.”

“Educate them how?”

“With the word of God. With the Bible. Bring them to church and have them talk with the pastor,” his mother recommends.

“What if they aren’t a friend?”

“Why do you have so many questions tonight?”

“Because I just – I want to know like, how I should approach the subject,” Blaine shrugs, though his mind is reeling with the lack of information he’s actually getting from the conversation.

“If they aren’t your friend then you should probably pray for them as well. It isn’t our place to decide how someone lives their life but there’s no harm in praying for their souls. If they’re a friend, I don’t see why we can’t help them see the truth.”

“And what exactly is the truth?”

“That homosexuality is a sin, Blaine. You know this.”

“And it’s a sin because of what is said in the Bible, right? And the Bible is God’s word?”

“Exactly,” his mother says shortly before standing. “It’s very simple. If they want to get into Heaven, they won’t adhere to a deviant lifestyle. And homosexuality is definitely a deviant lifestyle.”

“What makes it deviant, though?”

“It is deviant because God has deemed it deviant. And we’re not in a place to question God.”

Blaine lowers his head at his mother’s tone of voice. She has never become angry when he asks questions, no matter the subject. For her to snap so easily at him is thoroughly unsettling.

“Blaine,” his mother sighs, sinking back into a chair. “Are you sure there’s nothing more to this issue than you said? Nothing to do with any of your friends?”

“No ma’am,” Blaine replies softly.

“…Nothing – nothing to do with you, either?”

Blaine’s head snaps up at the suggestion. He feels as if he’s just been burned.

“No,” Blaine says firmly because there’s absolutely no need to cause his mother any grief.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” Blaine says with a single nod.

His mother stares at him with unwavering eyes before her expression softens and she reaches over to hold his hand.

“Do you have any other questions?”

“Not if you’re going to get mad at me for asking,” Blaine grumbles.

“I won’t,” she says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – I’m sorry. What are your questions?”

Blaine begins chewing on his lower lip. He hates when he does it, it’s such an easy way to tell when he’s uncomfortable and he’s already an open book to most that know him. He shifts in his seat, tucking his legs beneath him in his chair.

“Being gay…being a homosexual…is it a choice? Do people choose to like their own sex?” he asks, fearful of the answer.

“Yes,” his mother says immediately. “Being gay is a lifestyle choice.”

“…What if it isn’t?” Blaine asks quietly. “What if someone’s born that way and they have no control over it?”

“Why would someone be born gay?” his mother asks, truly puzzled.

“Why would someone choose to be gay?” Blaine counters, remember Kurt’s words from their trip home. “Why would someone choose to get made fun of all the time? Why would someone choose something that’s bad for them?”

“For the same reason that people do drugs, Blaine. Because it makes them feel good for a little while even though it can ultimately destroy their lives.”

Blaine rubs at his forehead. “How does liking your own sex destroy your life?”

“It destroys your life because it destroys any chance you have of getting into Heaven.”

“But I thought God forgave sinners. I thought Jesus died for our sins.”

“God doesn’t forgive murderers or rapists, no matter how hard they repent, honey,” his mother says with a squeeze to his hand.

Blaine pulls his hand away. “So one minute gay people are like drug addicts and now they’re like murderers?”

He can’t stop wondering where his mother is getting her information if not from the Bible. As he looks at her across the table, he cannot help but think that, for the first time in his entire life, his mother doesn’t have all the answers to his questions. She sits there, looking just like she usually does with her eyes like his and her long, pretty hair tied up on top of her head but…she doesn’t look the same anymore. She doesn’t have infinite wisdom.

My mother isn’t God, Blaine thinks.

“All you need to know,” she says, “is that it is a sin. God made it a sin. And there’s no way around that, sweetheart, choice or not.”

All Blaine can do is nod blankly because he feels like he just experienced some kind of paradigm shift. His mother stands, walks around the table, and kisses him on top of his head. He smiles tiredly before she bids him goodnight and disappears from the room. His world has just been turned upside down and tossed into a sea of unanswered questions and she just leaves.

She just leaves.

Blaine closes his Bible and snatches it and his notebook off the table to find sanctuary in his bare, little room. Everything is neat and tidy, just as he had left it this morning. He closes his door, sighing into the empty room and tosses his Bible and notebook onto his desk. Catching sight of his corkboard, he smiles at the Bible verse he had pinned up thanks to Kurt’s wise words about love.

And he begins to cry because it doesn’t seem like love is even allowed to be a factor in this mess.

There’s no way around it.

A pathetic little sob crawls into his mouth and he swallows it down as he changes into his pajamas.

He falls to his knees, hands clasped upon the top of his bed and his eyes squeeze shut.

“Dear God,” he begins to pray softly, “I beg your forgiveness for the sins I committed today. It was wrong of Kurt to kiss me and it was – it was wrong of me to kiss him again. It’s – it’s wrong of me to feel this way for another boy and I’m sorry. I won’t – I know it’s a sin. I know what your Word says about homosexuality and I know what I did was wrong and I’m…really, really sorry. But I’m so – I’m confused, God. People tell me two different things and I don’t know what to believe and I know I’m supposed to trust in you to lead me down the right path but I don’t even know what’s right anymore.” Tears build in his eyes, leaking out of the corners as he continues to pray with all of his heart. “I know that suffering is a part of life. I know we’re tested for a reason. But I’ve – I’ve been so good, Lord. I feel like I’ve been a really good Christian and really patient and really kind. I try to do everything right in your name and I just – I need some guidance. A lot of guidance. I need help, God. Please. Please help me,” Blaine concludes as he cries. “In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.”

His legs quiver as he stands and shuts off his light.

He crawls into bed. His tears stain his pillow and he does his very, very best to not think about how lovely Kurt had looked in the midst of Goldenrods and an autumn sunset.

“Is Kurt not here today?” Blaine asks, sitting down at their usual lunch table on Monday. “He wasn’t at his locker this morning.”

“He texted earlier and told me to try and get notes for him because he didn’t feel very good,” Mercedes informs him.

“Oh,” Blaine says flatly, eyes on his sandwich in its plastic wrap.

Turkey and Swiss.

The same kind of sandwich his mother has been making him for the past three years. Every single day for school.

He glares at it.

“I never knew sandwiches could seem so offensive,” Rachel comments, staring at the food in question. “Why do you look like you want to set it on fire?”

“I’m just tired of the same thing every day,” Blaine sighs. He looks back up at his friends, eyes darting between them. They’ve been Kurt’s friends for a long time now. Surely… “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Ask away,” Mercedes says.

“Did you know that Kurt was-” but then he stops himself because what if they don’t know anything about Kurt? What if they don’t know he’s gay? Blaine can’t just come out and say it, that would be horrible. “I mean, you’re really good friends with Kurt, right?”

“Going on three years now,” Mercedes comments.

“He and I have only really been friends since last year,” Rachel says, “whenever we both got into Glee.”

“But we’re all pretty tight. What’s up?”

“Well I want to ask something but I don’t…want to mention it if you didn’t already know,” Blaine says, hoping he sounds cryptic enough that they won’t catch on if they’re in the dark on the topic.

“Did he finally make a move on you or what?” Mercedes asks plainly, taking a drink of her soda like it was just a normal kind of question.

Blaine stares back in shock. “How did-”

“The boy’s been making eyes at you ever since the first week of school,” she says.

“We’ve kind of been waiting for a development,” Rachel adds.

“Wait so you – you did know he was gay?” Blaine asks.

“Everyone at this school knows that Kurt’s gay,” Mercedes informs.

I don’t get tossed into dumpsters or shoved around every day because I’m an Atheist. I get treated like that because I’m gay, Blaine recalls Kurt’s words.

“Oh,” Blaine says lamely.

“You…really didn’t know?” Rachel wonders. “It’s kind of hard to miss.”

“I’ve never met anyone gay before. I didn’t – uh, really know what signs to look for.”

“Oh,” Rachel nods, even though the idea seems completely foreign to her for some reason.

“And you guys, I mean, you’re okay with that? With him being gay?” Blaine asks, hoping he seems nonchalant enough about the issue.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Mercedes shrugs.

“You’re a Christian, right?” Blaine asks.

“And proud of it,” Mercedes confirms. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Blaine fiddles with the plastic wrap on his sandwich. To him, it has a lot to do with everything. How do other people reconcile sexual orientation so easily with their religions? How is he supposed to do the same when he’s been taught his entire life that it’s wrong?

“Well, what do they teach you about homosexuality in church?” Blaine asks quietly.

“That it’s a sin,” Mercedes says. “But they teach that it’s a sin because of a few random verses in the Bible.”

“…Yeah. Exactly.”

“Do you have something against homosexuals?” Rachel asks, suddenly up in arms about the entire issue for reasons Blaine doesn’t understand.

“I – I don’t,” Blaine says. “We’re just taught that, you know, that it’s not okay.”

“We’re taught that a lot of things aren’t okay,” Mercedes says. “But you know, I’m black. My ancestors were forced into slavery and treated like total crap. We were hated just for being black, for being who we were. It’s a lot better now, obviously, but things aren’t perfect. So if I’m not okay with being treated that way for being who I am, why the hell would I be okay with people bashing Kurt just for being who he is?”

“So you…agree with the idea that it isn’t a choice,” Blaine says, doing his very best to not offend anyone at the table. “You think that homosexuality is just…you think they’re born that way?”

“Well, yeah. You can’t help who you’re attracted to and you can’t help who you fall in love with. The same goes for straight people. You might think that you’d never be attracted to a certain type of person and then all the sudden you’re head over heels for them. The heart wants what the heart wants,” Mercedes concludes. “You love who you love.”

“But the Bible-”

“Christians aren’t the only ones who have views on homosexuality,” Rachel pipes up. “Jews have opinions too.”

“Sorry,” Blaine mutters. “He just – he told me the other day and I don’t – I don’t know what to believe anymore. What do Jews believe?”

“Personally, as a reform Jew, I was raised to believe that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with homosexuality,” Rachel says. “I have two gay dads and nothing has ever been said against them in the Jewish community. Our rabbi is gay and he has a partner and an adopted child.”

Blaine’s eyes go wide as saucers. Before he can even get a word in edgewise, however, Rachel’s off on a spiel and all he can do is take in the new information as she rambles.

“I think one of the biggest differences between Jews and Christians is that our holy book, the Torah, isn’t taken so literally most of the time. I’ve heard a lot of people like you who say that something is wrong because your Bible says it’s wrong. But I know we’re taught that the Torah isn’t necessarily a list of rules to be followed, like the Commandments, but more a book of stories, of guidelines that teach us how to be good people and live good lives. And I know we don’t use bits and pieces of it to make our own points about how other people should live. You can take anything out of context and use it as fuel in an argument but that’s not fair because you’re not looking at the entire story or the entire message.”

Lowering his head, Blaine stares down at the top of the table and tries to comprehend the fact that these two girls, both from different faiths, have two completely different views that clash with the way he was raised. Rachel’s dads are gay, for crying out loud. Her rabbi is gay and has a gay partner. Blaine had never even considered the fact that so many gay people existed in one place like small town Ohio. He always thought they were sort of concentrated in places like San Francisco or New York. He had never really thought about them just being every day people; people like Kurt or fathers with a daughter like Rachel’s dads.

He had never thought of them as just…people.

Just people.

“Like I said, I’m a reform Jew. More conservative Jews might not completely agree but for the most part, Jews are pretty understanding,” Rachel finishes.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, nodding.

“Is this just about Kurt?” Mercedes speaks again.

“W-what?” Blaine asks, head snapping up to look at her.

“Is this just about Kurt? Is it just about you trying to accept him or do you have more…personal problems with the whole thing that you need to talk about?”

“No, no,” Blaine lies. “It’s just about Kurt. I mean, he’s my friend and I want – but I just don’t know how to-”

“You should come to my house for dinner this Friday,” Rachel says suddenly. “You can meet my dads!”

“I don’t know if – if-”

“Just one dinner. And the food is delicious, I promise,” Rachel says with a smile. “We’d love to have you.”

Blaine looks at her and her eyes are shining. She looks so hopeful at the prospect. Blaine thinks back to Kurt and the way he had tried to explain everything to Blaine, to explain who he was and why he was who he was. The entire concept is still baffling to him but…

But Kurt.

“Okay,” Blaine says. “I’ll come.”

He’s going to be doing a lot of praying this week.

I've been to both knees
Raise my hands up to the skies, forgive me
Is something out there far beyond the clouds?
I'm asking help me
Help me to see the world
Through baby eyes and hold me closely
I need a fresh start on the roller coaster
Made for coasting

      -Blue October, “Blue Skies”