“I don’t know what I did to deserve all the Hummel’s help, but they gave it to me, no questions asked. I don’t know what Mr. Hummel said to my parents either, but they agreed to get me help. My mom told me she didn’t want me to end up like her, and that they’d do what they had to to make sure I’m okay.” Blaine looked around at the faces in the circle. It was his first group therapy session and, while he hadn’t been excited to tell his story at first, now that it was over he felt better.

 “So, uh, that’s why I’m here, I guess.”

“Thank you for sharing, Blaine.”

Everybody in the circle clapped for him, congratulating him on his bravery. He wasn’t sure how brave it was to tell strangers all of your secrets, but he had to admit how freeing it was. All of these secrets had been weighing him down for so long; to say them all out loud already made the burden easier to bear. These people understood him and what he was going through, at least to an extent. They wouldn’t judge him, because some of them felt exactly the same way.

“And how are you feeling about your therapy? I understand you’ve been seeing a doctor individually for a few weeks now. How do you think it’s going?”

He looked at the woman leading the group and noted her kind eyes and soft smile. He decided he liked her just for that look. He didn’t want people’s sympathy, and he especially didn’t want their pity, and she was giving none of that. She just listened, and the others just understood, and it was all he wanted.

 “Sometimes I feel like it will help me. Sometimes I think it’s a waste of everybody’s time and money because I think I can’t be fixed. I’m just worthless and stupid and it’s not even worth trying.”

“That’s perfectly normal, you know that, right?” Blaine nodded at her, and she made a mark on her clipboard.

“You’re not going to feel better overnight. It takes time and hard work, and a good support system, which it sounds like you have, at least from your boyfriend and his family, maybe even your mother. It’s okay to still feel sad sometimes. It’s an everyday battle Blaine; you just have to keep working at it.”

Blaine nodded, but he frowned. Of course he knew it wouldn’t be quick or easy, but damn had he hoped it would be. He’d hoped more than anything that a few weeks with a counselor and a few antidepressants would cure him right up. He wanted to see the world in all its colors again, he wanted to wake up in the morning and not feel like somebody had punched a hole right through him. He wanted to look at his boyfriend and feel worthy of him, and he wanted it now. He was so tired of feeling like this. Now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, he felt exhausted, like the closer he got the harder he had to work, the more crap he had to trudge through to get there. He was trying, and some days he was hopeful, but mostly he was agitated and angry, set off by the simplest things. He had more good days now than he’d had in months, but somehow the bad days seemed worse.

Today was a bad day.

He had woken up in a bad mood, anxious about this group meeting. He’d agreed to go because he thought it would be good for him to talk to people who understood. Kurt was amazing, but he didn’t get it like Blaine thought other patients might. And he’d felt so good after sharing his story, but by the end of the session he felt like an idiot. He’d spilled his guts about how worthless he felt, about how alone he was and scared for his boyfriend to leave for college. He’d told them everything, but then they started telling their stories, and his problems were so small compared to theirs. How was he supposed to compare with the man served in the war, or the woman who had to abort her baby because the pregnancy was dangerous to her? They had real problems; Blaine was just dramatic.

He didn’t stick around to talk to anybody when it was over, not even the therapist with the kind eyes, whom he’d heard yelling after him as he all but ran out of the building.

Kurt was waiting outside in his navigator, and Blaine jumped inside, not even greeting him before telling him to drive.

“Is everything okay, Blaine?” Kurt looked over at him, his hands gripping tight around the wheel. “Blaine?” Kurt said again when Blaine didn’t answer.

“Can we go to your place?” Blaine asked, his voice quiet and shaky. He wiped a tear from his eye as Kurt turned the car around. “We can talk there.”

The rest of the drive was silent, Kurt looking over occasionally, but not pushing the subject. Blaine just sat looking straight forward, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell down his face.

He was calm by the time they pulled into the Hummel’s driveway. He and Kurt grabbed some water and snacks from the kitchen before heading up to his room. They sat the food on the nightstand and crawled in bed, Kurt wrapping Blaine in his arms. Blaine took a deep breath and let himself sink into Kurt.

“Sorry I freaked out,” he whispered.

“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize for this okay? Do you want to tell me what this was about?”

“I guess I just felt stupid. Like, I told them the whole story and they were all really nice about it, but then they told their stories, and they were real, Kurt. They had real issues, real pain, and I guess I just felt inadequate, like my problems were silly or something. And it just hit me really hard because that was one of the things I was so afraid of, that people would think I was just a dramatic teenager looking for attention, maybe pissed off because I’m gay.” Blaine took a deep breath. “But on the way here I remembered what Dr. Hamilton said to me, about pain being pain no matter where it comes from. He said you can’t compare yourself to people like that because everybody has a different story, and everybody has different triggers.” Blaine played absentmindedly with the blanket Kurt had thrown over them. Tears stung his eyes once again, but he blinked them back.

“It’s not stupid, is it Kurt?” Blaine asked, barely above a whisper.

“No, honey, of course not. Your doctor is right, and the important thing is getting better.” Kurt kissed the top of his head. “I’m so proud of you, Blaine. I know how hard it was for you to tell me and to face this, but you’re working so hard and doing so well, and that makes me so happy.”

Finally Blaine let a few tears fall. Kurt had an endless supply of compassion, and he always made him feel better.

“I’m not better yet, though.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes I still want to cut myself. Did you know that?” Kurt stayed silent, but shook his head. “Sometimes when I’m feeling really bad my wrists just itch, and all I can think about is cutting,” Blaine continued. Kurt grabbed him a little tighter. “Sometimes I want to do it just to stop the itch, and sometimes I still think it will help, it will calm me down like it used to. I want to stop, Kurt, but it’s hard. I’ve slipped up a few times.” Blaine looked away, ashamed to admit his failures.

Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled it towards him. He pulled Blaine’s sleeve back and kissed his wrist. He kissed all the scars he could see, and Blaine just watched in amazement.

“You’re going to get better, Blaine,” Kurt said, staring intensely into Blaine’s eyes. “You’re going to get better, but it’s not going to be easy, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I want you to call me whenever you feel like cutting, okay? I don’t care what time it is, or if we’re fighting, or anything. You call me and talk to me, got it?” Blaine smiled then.

“I will. Thank you.” He leaned forward and kissed Kurt. For the first time in a long time, he felt it. He felt it deep in his bones, a wave of love and passion passing through him. It wouldn’t be easy, but he would get through this. He had Kurt and his family, he had the New Directions, he had his therapists and he thought he even had his mother.

Blaine broke the kiss and smiled up at Kurt, a genuine, eye-crinkling smile that he hadn’t felt on his face in months.

“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt whispered.

“I love you, too. So, so much.”