Blaine,

            I’ve been concerned about you lately, especially after Karofsky’s suicide attempt. You’ve been distant and snippy and sometimes you just look so sad, only to look bright and cheery again as soon as somebody comes up to you. I thought maybe you were stressed about regionals at first, then maybe school, then perhaps Karofsky. I thought maybe Sebastian was bothering you and you were feeling guilty or something. But it’s only gotten worse over time, and I didn’t know what to think.

            Then you came over for that movie last night and you looked so upset, and I knew it was more than a fight with your parents. You passed out on my lap minutes into the movie and that’s just not like you—you usually have so much energy. You looked so unhappy in your sleep and you kept flopping around, and that’s when I saw the cuts on your wrists, the cuts that you put there. There were so many—old ones, recent ones, some covered in band-aids and I can only assume that those were fresh. I didn’t say anything and I don’t think anybody noticed, but I don’t know what to do now. I’m scared, Blaine. I’m scared because I love you and I knew you were hurting but I didn’t know it was that much. I don’t want you to hurt, Blaine, and I certainly don’t want you to hurt yourself. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and now I realize that maybe you don’t see yourself the way I see you, but I want you too.

            You’re smart and you’re kind, you always put the needs of others before your own (almost to a fault). You always look so alive when you’re performing, and it makes my heart race and my knees go weak just watching you. You’re so strong and so gentle and you could do anything you want with your life because you work so hard. You don’t take anything for granted and you make sure to earn the things you have. I was so lost and so alone when I met you on that staircase that day, and I will always see that day as one of the best in my life. You saved me, Blaine. You swooped in and swept me off my feet. You listened to me when nobody else did, you saw me and my problems and you helped me when not even my closest friends would. You loved me, you still love me. I wake up every morning feeling alive and beautiful because I know you’re out there and I know you’re thinking of me and I know we’ll get to see each other at school. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me, Blaine? How important you are to me? Maybe I haven’t shown you this enough, but I LOVE YOU. I love you more than I love anyone or anything and I want you to be okay.

            I know that I can’t just ask you to stop; I know that it’s not that simple. There’s some reason that you do this that I don’t understand, and maybe I never will. But you need help Blaine, I hope you know that, and I hope you know that I will always be here for you, and that you can tell me anything. I want to help you; I want to try to understand what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours. Please talk to me.

            I love you so much.

            Kurt

I folded up the letter and stuck it back in my backpack, where I had found it that morning in my first period class. I had probably read it 50 times by then, and would read it another ten before I went to lunch in half an hour. Kurt would be at lunch, and then I’d have to face this.

I had been a wreck all morning. I had no idea how I felt; I was relieved, terrified, happy, sad, angry. How could I have been so careless as to let Kurt see my wrists? How was Kurt not horrified? I thought if he ever found them he’d be running for the hills. He wasn’t even angry with me for doing it. He wanted to try to understand. He wasn’t pushing me, he was asking me to come to him. He said he hadn’t told anybody, and he said I saved him.  Why was he being so nice about it? He wanted to help me, not dump me. As happy as I was, I didn’t understand. The bell rang, disrupting my thoughts. I picked up my bag and walked slowly towards the lunchroom, praying to a god I don’t believe in that this would end well.

I walked into the cafeteria and saw Kurt sitting at a table just inside the door. He was fidgeting, pulling on his sleeves and shifting his eyes over the crowd. I felt my heart clenching, but I didn’t know if it was a good or bad feeling.  I walked up to him slowly, tears filling my eyes as I reached forward and tapped his shoulder. He turned and looked up at me, and I lost it. He stood and wrapped his arms around me and I just stood there sobbing in the middle of the cafeteria, whispering apologies through my tears.

“Kurt?” I heard Santana ask, but Kurt just shook his head and I didn’t hear anybody else. After a few minutes Kurt pulled away and wiped the tears from my face.

“Do you want to go back to my house? We can skip the afternoon and talk.”

 I nodded my head and let him guide me out of the room. We grabbed our books from our lockers, left the building, got in Kurt’s car, and drove to his house. I sobbed the whole way.

Kurt led me up to his bedroom, sent a quick text off to Finn, and pulled me into his arms on his bed. He stroked my hair while I tried to calm myself down, whispering in my ear that he loved me no matter what. When the tears stopped flowing and my breathing evened out Kurt sat us up against the headboard, but still kept me resting against his chest, which I was thankful for because I didn’t know if I’d be able to tell him while looking at his face. I didn’t want to see his reactions.

“Do you want to talk, or will it be easier if I start asking you questions?”

I don’t know what I did to deserve his kindness, but I was grateful for it.

“Questions, I guess. But easy questions?” I asked, chancing a glance up at Kurt. He smiled sadly at me and kissed my forehead.

“Did you, um, cut yourself yesterday?” Kurt asked, his voice tight as he stuttered over the words.

“Yes.”

“May I ask why?”
            “I got in a fight with my parents. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“What did you fight about?”

 I took a deep breath before I answered, and blinked away some tears. I knew this was the beginning of a long conversation, and didn’t want to start off crying. I would save that for later.

“My father doesn’t like that I’m in glee club. I accidentally mentioned it. Then he went on and on about all the things he gives me and how I never pay him back. He called you a f-fag,” I heard Kurt gasp, “and I lost it because you deserve better than that and I’m sorry he said that about you.”

“Blaine, does he ever call you that?”

“S-sometimes. He doesn’t like that I’m gay. He said I was ‘allowed’ to be as long as I didn’t act on it until college, which is why my parents don’t like you.”

“Is that why you never let me come over to your house?” I just nodded and wiped away a stray tear.

“Do you fight with them a lot?”

“Whenever we actually speak, I guess. We don’t talk much since I came out. My dad just works all the time and my mom drinks, but whenever we do speak we usually just fight.”

Kurt sat quietly for a few minutes, I assumed to mull it over and calm himself down.

“Do you cut yourself a lot?”

“Sometimes. I didn’t for a while, until Sebastian and the Warblers slushied me. Then I started doing it again.”

“Why do you do it?”

I sat and thought about this while Kurt rubbed his hand up and down my arm. There were so many reasons, and while they made sense to me, I didn’t know if they’d make sense to him, or anybody else. The reasons I started doing it weren’t the reasons I was doing it then. Mostly I just didn’t know how to tell him.

“It kind of depends. Sometimes I do it to p-punish myself. Sometimes it calms me down, like yesterday after the fight. Sometimes I do it because I just hurt inside and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“What is it that hurts that much, baby?”

“Everything,” I sobbed. “The Warblers, my parents. Most of the time I don’t think anybody in glee actually likes me, like I’m just “Kurt’s boyfriend” and next year I don’t know what’s going to happen. I do it because I’m not who everyone thinks I am, I’m not who you think I am, and I love you so much and I don’t want you to leave me but you deserve so much better than me.”

I couldn’t stop after that. The floodgates had been opened and everything I’d been feeling, everything I’d been keeping secret just came rushing out of me. I told Kurt everything. He sat and listened to me. He cried a lot and sometimes told me he loved me, but mostly he just stayed quiet while I spoke.

For the better part of two hours I told Kurt about all my problems, my thoughts, my fears, my shortcomings. By the time it was over I was trembling in Kurt’s arms, but he never let me go. He held me tight and kissed away my tears.

“Thank you for telling me this, Blaine. I know it was hard for you.”

I just nodded against his chest, reveling in his extra-kind words. I knew he was coddling me a bit, but I had been so scared he’d reject me that I didn’t even care. I kind of liked it, actually. I needed it.

“You know you need help, don’t you?” I nodded and took a deep breath.

“I didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t know what you would say, and I don’t know what my parents will think and I don’t want things between us to get even worse than they already are. My mom has been depressed for as long as I can remember and they’ve never done anything about it and I’m scared they’ll just brush me off. I’m scared they’ll tell me my problems aren’t big enough, or that I’m just sensitive. What if they don’t help me, Kurt?” My voice trembled, but Kurt pulled me a little tighter and held me together.

“What if we told my dad? We don’t have to,” Kurt added when I looked up at him with wide, wet eyes, “not if you don’t want to, but I really think he could help.”

“Will he be disappointed in me?” I asked, crying again.

“No, honey, no. He loves you, Blaine, and he just wants you to be happy and healthy, just like I do, just like Finn and Carole do, and just like all of New Directions does, okay?” I sat thinking for a few moments, wondering if it was worth it. Eventually I agreed.

            I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Kurt was nudging me awake.

            “Blaine,” he said, “my dad just got home. I know it might be fast, but I think we should tell him sooner rather than later, don’t you?” I swallowed nervously.

            “Stay with me,” I pleaded.

            “Of course.”

            Kurt took my hand and led me down to the living room, where his father sat in his chair sipping a beer and watching sports highlights.

            “Dad?” Kurt asked, and Burt turned immediately towards us at his tone.

            “Is everything okay, kid? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

            “We left at lunch.” Burt looked angry for a moment, but his concern and confusion pushed that aside. He turned off the TV and gestured for us sit down on the couch.

            “What’s going on? Are you being bullied again? Because I thought I told Principal Figgins…”

            “No, dad. It’s not like that.” Kurt looked nervously at me, and I whispered in his ear, begging him to explain. I didn’t think I could say it all again.

            “We came home to talk.” Kurt gave me one last nervous look before clearing his throat and looking intently at his father. “Yesterday when you and Carole were gone, Finn and I had Blaine and Rachel over, as you know.” Burt nodded. “Well, Blaine was upset when he came and said he’d been fighting with his parents. He fell asleep as soon as the movie started and while he was sleeping I, um, well I noticed… I noticed that Blaine had some cuts on his wrists. Cuts that he’d put there.” I didn’t think Burt knew much about self-harm, but judging by his reaction he was at least aware of it. He looked over at me; his eyes looked so sad and he looked so concerned. I ducked my head and Kurt squeezed my hand.

            “I left a note in Blaine’s backpack this morning asking him to talk to me, so that’s why we came home at lunch. We decided to tell you about it because we don’t really know what to do. Blaine needs help, dad, but he’s too scared to talk to his parents because they…” Kurt stopped a moment to wipe his eyes. “His parents don’t accept him for being gay, and all they do is fight and… please help, dad.”

We were both sobbing, then, and even Burt’s eyes looked a little wet.

            “Of course, kiddo. Whatever you need, Blaine, don’t be afraid to talk to me, or Kurt, or anybody here, alright?”

 I nodded.

“I’ll have a talk with your parents and see what I can get done.” I looked at Burt in pure panic because there was no way that would end well. He immediately put his hands up as if in surrender and said “No, no, don’t worry about it, Blaine. If you need help, you’ll get it. You shouldn’t be afraid of your parents, and they shouldn’t treat you any differently for being gay. I’m not afraid to tell them that. We’ll talk more about this whole thing later, okay? I would like to know more if you don’t mind, so I know what’s going on. For now, though, you two should eat something and take a nap—you look exhausted. But can I just ask you one question, Blaine?”

I nodded again, afraid that if I tried to speak I would completely break down.

            “Have you ever thought about killing yourself?”

Burt looked at me so seriously, and I felt Kurt tense beside me, squeezing my hand tighter. He looked over at me with his already tear-filled eyes. I couldn’t lie to them. I didn’t want them to know this, to know how dark things had gotten, but I couldn’t lie to them after everything they’d already done, had agreed to do, just in the last few hours.

            “Yes.” I said.

            Burt nodded and I saw a tear slide down his cheek before he stood up and walked into the kitchen. Kurt burst into tears beside me and pulled me into a hug. I sat in his arms and cried. I cried mostly from relief, but also for the fear I had about the future. Mostly, though, I cried because suddenly there was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was small and it was distant, but it was there. Kurt and Burt had been my two biggest obstacles, and now they were my two biggest supporters.