Letter 15: May 27th

So wide the world
Can love remember how to get me home to you
Someday
We'll be together again
All just a dream in the end

(Evanescence – Together Again)

Kurt couldn't decide what was more pleasurable: snuggling on the couch with Blaine, while the rain rapped angrily at the windows, or watching West Side Story for a thousandth time and shedding a river of tears at the end without shame or remorse. Blaine wasn't crying, sure that Kurt had already cried enough for the both of them, and kept on stuffing his mouth with popcorn.

As the credits started, Kurt was still sniffling into a Kleenex.

'Do you remember the McKinley version of West Side Story?,' asked Blaine.

Kurt raised his puffy eyes at his husband, smiling slightly.

'Of course. Richard Beymer wasn't half as good as you were as Tony.'

'Yeah, but I don't have a Golden Globe nomination to show for it,' Blaine chuckled in response. Then his tone became serious again. 'Do you know what Rachel told me right before we went on stage the opening night?'

'Hm?' Kurt laid his head down on Blaine's shoulder, inhaling his scent.

'That we could play Tony and Maria, because we both knew what it's like to have a soul mate.'

The corners of Kurt's lips arched up.

'I suppose she was right. Considering how marvelous you both were.' He looked into Blaine's eyes. 'Especially you, of course.'

'Of course.'

He planted a kiss on Kurt's lips, but his husband pushed Blaine gently away to be able to speak.

'Do you know what I remember about that opening night?' Mischievous sparkles danced in his eyes, as he reached to unbutton Blaine's shirt.

***

This year May 27th Kurt had dubbed the worst birthday ever a long time before the day actually came.

Every time anyone mentioned his birthday, he shushed them, forbidding to speak of it again. But all of his friends and co-workers understood that he still hadn't truly recovered from his loss, so they obeyed. Presents were banned, and so were parties, cakes and cards.

Because if he saw all those cards and presents, he would automatically start searching for those from Blaine, before it would strike him that there are none to be found.

It surprised even him how long it was taking him to get used to the idea of Blaine being gone. When his mother died, it took a couple of months to accept it. Even though he would still, years later, wake up thinking she'd walk into his room to kiss him on the forehead and tell him to come for breakfast.

And then, that stopped too, because there was another person to kiss him in the mornings. But now he was gone as well. Getting over that a second time was bound to be tougher.

So when the dreaded birthday came, Kurt had just one thing to open: another of Blaine's letters. He could barely stop himself from ripping the envelope earlier; he'd gotten used to a letter every two or three weeks. Waiting for another for a whole month was unbearable. His fingers ached for it every time he looked at the red box, sitting now on top of his own desk.

But he resisted the urge until the morning of the 27th, when he sat down in front of the cursed box.

His hands trembled as he lifted the lid; he had no idea why that would be. There was nothing to be anxious about. But the trembling was there, and his heart hammered against his ribs, nauseating.

He finally managed to open the envelope and flatten out the piece of paper it was hiding. His insides clenched, as he seen just one line written in the middle of the page.

Look back into the envelope. Don't be disappointed just yet.

Hastily, he grabbed the envelope, looking for whatever it was Blaine left for him inside. A tiny black rectangle caught his eye.

It was a flat microscopic flash drive.

Intrigued more than by any other of Blaine's letters, Kurt stuck the drive into his laptop. Only one file was saved on it. A video file.

A second later it was already playing.

Their living room. It seemed like the middle of the day, because the only artificial light was the standing lamp right next to the piano. The camera must have been placed on top of the instrument, as its lens was set directly on Blaine face. A tired face, surrounded by millimeter long hair, barely starting to grow out again after the last round of chemo, with enormous, purple bags under the eyes.

Kurt's heart ached at the sight. He wished he could keep the image of a healthy, smiling Blaine, with those outrageous curls and absurd triangle eyebrows.

'Hi, honey,' said Blaine on the screen, beaming almost as happily as in the good old days. 'I wish I could do this in person, but… Well, we both know I can't. But I wanted to wish you a happy birthday anyway. And all the next happy birthdays, too. I don't think I could record a video for you to watch on all of those. That would take up too much energy, and obviously, I don't have much of that lately. And you're going to live a long life after I'm gone, so that would have to be a lot of videos.'

Blaine's eyes dropped onto the keyboard, as he slid his fingers over the ivory.

'Just listen to the song.'

Kurt froze, taking in every detail of Blaine's face, shoulders, voice… The music started, and he recognized it in an instant.

There's a place for us

Somewhere a place for us…

Before he knew it, streams of salty water were flowing down his face, and dripping from his chin. The music ended and the tears didn't cease.

'I know you don't believe we'll meet again. But I hope that we will. It's just too hard for me to believe there is nothing beyond this,' he waved at the room. 'Maybe there is a place for soul mates to be reunited after death. I like to think there is.' He smiled weakly at the camera. 'So try to think that too. We're going to meet again, honey. I love you, remember that.'