It all would have just remained in my memories. I had to pray for my brain to stay strong and no forget anything of what I had the chance to have seen until now.
And, most of all, I had to accept my conditions.
The hate was growing in me, unstoppable. It was eating myself, piece after piece, while Kurt’s cold hands were taking my wrists, removing them from his face.

� You know, Blaine, sometimes what you can imagine is better than what you can really see. Dreams are better than reality after all, aren’t they? �
� Yes, but they're not true. � I answered, headstrong. I couldn’t deal with it.

All I wanted was to open my eyes and see Kurt’s ones. I wanted to notice his hair’s shades, observe the marble pavement’s color and examine the combinations of colors that he could have create with his clothes: the absurd thing was that he couldn’t see them. I wanted to recognize myself in the mirror, I was forgetting my face. I wanted to see the sun and the sky. I wanted to read music. I never wanted to live like this, I never meant to be so different.

Before I could realize it, tears were already collapsing into my cheeks draining all along my face and my neck, ending up on Kurt’s cold hands.
� Blaine, wha- � he murmured, escaping from my grip.
� I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I… I never cry, I swear. I’m a really cheerful guy, I really am. � I murmured, as I was crying and smiling and my body was shaken by shivers and sobs.

I've never felt worst in my whole life, neither after the car accident. My new life was collapsing on me from the start. It was like being segregated in a box without holes for light or air.

Kurt stood up, he took my hand and he brought me in somewhere where I felt the wind on my skin. Maybe a ventilator?

From the noise I heard I guessed it might have been a window. Kurt opened it and let the cold breeze come in, mixed to the sun’s warmth that caressed my face. The ground’s smell suddenly penetrated my nostrils.
� Tell me what you think there is outside this window. � he said, taking a deep breath.

I passed a hand on my face, trying to dry the tears from it and I answered.
� I don’t know. �
He hit me on the back of my head.
� Try. � he squeaked, more acute than usual.
I forced myself to try, despite my rational part was telling me I was just delaying what was inexorable. I mentally not attached the strings that had caught back my dreamer soul and pictures suddenly exploded in my mind.
� A grass stretch. Lush grass and a fence to the left with some animals. A swing where a little girl is placid swinging and... some yellow and red trees with half of their leaves on the ground. Two guys are reading lying on a cover. Sun is warm but the wind mitigate its warmth. I see chubby clouds at the horizon. I see... the sun shining bright as usual. � I concluded. I sniffed and Kurt laughed and sighed.

� You’re almost better than me. � he commented, and he passed a thumb on my cheek, reaching the tears that I had just stopped.
� Do you know what there really is out of there? � I asked, closing my eyelids and enjoying the sun. Kurt made a noise similar to the one that cats made when they stretched.

� Yep, but I’m never going to tell you. Your vision was infinitely better. � he answered.
At that moment I was so grateful to him that I couldn’t help taking his hand. I immediately found it and it had been incredible. It was as if I knew where Kurt was, as if he had somehow bounded to me in half an hour.
� Thank you. � I murmured. He took my mouth angles and pull them up.
� Thank you. � he answered in a low voice. � and smile, I was sure you wasn’t doing it. � and he walked away.
� What do we have to do now? � I asked, trying to regain some self-control: it was turning up to be harder than I thought.

� I want to teach you how to use the stick, for now. What do you think about it? �
Moving without hitting a wall at almost every step would have actually been really interesting.
I agreed
� Good idea, I could result less dangerous with a stick in my hands. �

He laughed and I heard the lock clicking again. We were about to go out in the corridor again.
� The other would already be in their classes but I have free-morning to help you. Oh, how I like to be a tutor. � he exclaimed.

***

Using the stick wasn’t so difficult, or at least, I had thought worse; it seemed easier with Kurt next to me. He had a hand on my shoulder and he was giving to me some base indications with kind voice.

� Don’t worry, it’s easy. The first time I used it I hit my feet, I fell on my knees and I irremediably ruined my new Mark Jacobs satin trousers: a complete disaster. �
While I was trying to feel the ground – in fact we were walking in the school’s courtyard – I burst into laugh.
� So you really are a fashion expert, you wasn’t joking! �
A stick hit my leg, and I was sure that it wasn’t mine.
� Of course! I never joke. � he pointed out, with a fluted and obvious tone of voice.

I realized I was bringing out of his prison that Blaine who the car accident had killed. I remember I used to be expansive, smiling, spontaneous, slightly weird... and I also remembered how I suddenly turned myself off after have known that I wouldn’t have seen the light anymore. But now that Blaine was emerging again: a terrible, adorable guy was resuscitating him. I was forced to realized every second more that with such a kind of new life, a new Blaine would have born: a Blaine I hoped would have been better. I wanted to let me go with Kurt, I wanted to inhibit every brake and to be myself the best way I could: exactly like him.

� How can you dress fashionable or combine colors, if you can’t see them? �
He made a strutting noise.
� I dress with all my old clothes. By the touch I can recognize them and I'm able to remember their colors. � he explained, shifting next to me. � It’s a warm day. � he commented. I inspired the fresh air; it smelled of dry leaves, wood, ground and asphalt. Sun was warming my sweater and I imagined to walk on a pentagram path, listening to the rhythm and writing notes with the stick.

Toc.

I hit a rock and, thanks to God, I managed walking over it.
� You’re getting better! � he exclaimed enthusiastically.
� Kurt, do you know where are we going? � I asked.
� I walked here like a thousand times, I know every tile of this courtyard. �
� How long have you been here? � I asked curiously.
He stopped and changed topic.
� We should go back in, you still haven’t taken your number room. Moreover you have to meet your roommate. This is a male school so he obviously will be a boy. � he took my walking stick and then my hand. He brought me back in, walking forward me as we used to do at the nursery. I remembered my years in that place hadn’t been so memorable but Kurt’s hand was delicate, despite I sensed he was disturbed, and touched mine sweetly.

Suddenly, he immobilized me.
� Blaine I want you to understand one thing. � he murmured. � I’m not just a tutor. I mean... I have a lot of friends, that’s true, and I’m kind of important in this school and I like that everybody cares about me, I admit it. But you’re different and I suddenly understood that. You’re just like me, you truly make me smile and that's not the fake smile I must show to everybody just because they expect me to do it. Please, don’t become one of the many faceless people who ask to sit next to me in the lunch room. Remain a true person, okay? Remember: I am just like you and I'll remain so, nothing else matters. �

I didn’t answer as he expected, there was nothing I needed to confirm about what he said: I wanted to stay. I wanted to talk with him and finally feel part of something, part of someone. I wouldn’t have got lost in the pile, not if he talked to me like that.

He couldn’t understand how happy I was to have found him and I didn’t care if I had just met him, you don’t need so much time to understand how special a person is: just a few words.

� Are there music lessons here at school? � I asked.
� Yes, sure: singing, guitar, piano, trombone, drums and flute. Why? � He answered kinda of surprised.
I smiled and, this time, I was the one looking for his shoulder. I leaned here my hand and felt the warmth of his body and the softness of his clothes.
� Because we have to sing together, and I’ll accompany us with the guitar, soon, okay? �
He shivered and chuckled, slightly shaking his shoulders.
� Promised? � he asked shyly.
� Promised. � I confirmed and I couldn’t help wondering if he paid as much attention to my details as I paid to his.