I’ve been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror
Bending over backward just to try to see it clearer
but my breath fogged up the glass
and so I drew a new face and I laughed

I’m Yours by Jason Mraz

Only two months left until you come home!!

This song is a little more obvious than I tend to be. There’s no hidden meanings, there’s nothing deeper going on here. I’m yours. You’re stuck with me, fella.

It’s another video file and Matt says you better seriously appreciate his back up ukulele work.

~~~~~

Blaine is agitated. His day has been shitty. He’s not really used to shitty days. Blaine knows how to cope with most things the world throws at him. He thinks the problem with today is that he’s been on such an upswing lately, he doesn’t know how to deal with a blow like this.

He leaves work and heads to his dorm. It’s Tuesday and Matt has class. Normally he’d be having dinner with Kerry and he could vent to her, but she picked up an extra shift at work tonight. He considers texting Tina or Rachel, but he doesn’t want to have to try to talk to both of them at the same time. He even briefly contemplates texting Puck to see if he wants to get drunk and go get in a fight. Or maybe emailing an SOS to Kurt would work, although Kurt probably won’t even get it tonight. It’s after 1am in Paris. And on the other hand, he might need to wade through some of these feelings on his own.

Instead he grabs his laptop, in case he changes his mind about the SOS to Kurt, and heads to the coffee place. He places his order (it’s an “Ed” kind of night, as opposed to an “Alex” kind of night), collects it, and searches for a table. In a stroke of luck, his favorite hidden table is available and he can drown his sorrows in his mocha back there.

He opens his laptop and starts to compose an email to Kurt, but nothing is coming out right. He doesn’t want to be so hard on himself. He doesn’t want to make Kurt feel bad for him. Blaine knows he needs to think out his problem a bit more before sending off an impetuous email where mostly he’ll be bitching and moaning.

He tries to start another email.

~~~~~

To: Kurt, From: Blaine
Date: Tues, Mar 31, 7:17 pm
Subject: stupid. fucking. dumb. shit. Fuck.

Hey fella. I’m having a really bad day (if you couldn’t tell from my subject line).

It’s just that apparently I (still) suck at life (even though I thought I was really getting better at it) and I want to cry or punch something and you’re not here (I don’t want to punch you, just a wall or something) and now I hate everything and this sucks. I try so hard all the time and somehow it’s like it doesn’t ever matter because there’s always someone who’s going to remind me that it’s not worth it. How much harder can I work? I don’t even know what else I could be doing at this point.

I’m so frustrated and this so stupid and I’m so tired of fucking up. And I wish you were here, but I don’t want to make you feel guilty about not being here.

~~~~~

He immediately deletes it. He had foolishly hoped that getting those words and thoughts and emotions out of his head might make him feel better. Instead he kind of feels like punching himself in the face.

He’s glaring at his computer, as though it’s the offending entity, when he hears his name.

“Blaine?”

He looks up, face still tensed.

It’s Justin. Justin who hit on him at open mic night. He looks back down at his computer and lets out a long breath. This is not a good night to have to try to talk to a stranger.

“Hey,” Blaine says dully, not hiding the fact that he’s really not in the mood to talk. He rubs a hand across his face and looks back up at Justin.

“Hi. I was kind of hoping I’d see you around. I feel like I was kind of weird a couple weeks ago. I really only wanted to tell you that I liked your music and I wasn’t trying to say anything else. I get nervous sometimes and you seemed like a nice guy and, that’s all.” He says this all in a rush and then he pauses. “I’m sorry.”

Blaine looks at him, a question on his lips.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Blaine says after a minute of deep thought. Justin did make him uncomfortable, but a lot of people make him uncomfortable and that’s only because he’s not usually prepared to talk in front of strangers.The topic and Justin’s actual approach only made him uncomfortable when it was pointed out to him that Justin may have had ulterior motives.

“I have a feeling I just made it worse.”

Blaine laughs then, though he’s not sure why. It seems to break the tension.

“It’s nah-nah-not … a pr-pr-problem.” He sighs. He’s not in the right frame of mind for this.

“Are you.” Justin pauses, as though he thought better of what he was about to say, and gazes almost longingly at the door. Then he shakes his head and starts again. “This is a bit forward of a near stranger, but are you ok? You seem kind of off.”

“I, I, I had a shitty dd-dd-day,” Blaine says quietly, not making eye contact, feeling conspicuous.

“Need a friendly ear?”

“It’s a pr-pr-pretty embarrassing ss-ss-story to tell a near ssssss-stah-ranger,” Blaine says with a grimace.

“Sometimes talking to a near stranger is easier than talking to a friend.”

Blaine considers that for a few seconds. “I-I-I-I’m nah-not very good at either.” He has no idea why he said that. It’s awfully “pity party” for someone he doesn’t know. He tries hard not to present himself like that. Or maybe he said it because he doesn’t really care? Part of him wants to tell the guy to back off. But that would require saying a b-word and Blaine doesn’t think he has it in him to be that rude to anyone. Ever.

Justin gestures towards the chair across from Blaine and Blaine nods. It’s not like he has anyone else to talk to at the moment and who knows, maybe this will help. He rubs his hands on his jeans, because of course they started sweating.

“So,” Justin prompts.

“So. I-I-I wah-work at an after ssssschool ddd-ddd-day-care thing, for like, elementary ssssschool kids. And I love the kids and I love mmm-mmm-my job and there’s nah-never beh-beh-beh-been a problem. Today though, one of the little kids, a kindergartener, ss-ss-started …” He takes a deep breath through his nose. “Buh, buh, bi-bi-bi-bi-biiiiiii-ting. The other kids.”

He glances a Justin who’s nodding along with his story. “That sucks,” he says.

“It dah-does!” Blaine agrees. “What sucks even wor-ww-orse is having to tell a parent about it and nah-nah-not be-be-be-be-being able to say the word bbbbbbbbiting and them complaining to your sssssupervisor be-be-be-be-because you quote unquote ‘can’t talk rrr-rrr-right.’”

“What does it matter how you talk?”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “It always mm-mm-matters to ss-ss-someone. Always to m-m-m-me. Buh-buh-ut I’m just ssssso pissed. I’m pissed at mmmm-myself, I-I-I-I’m pissed at the parent, I’m pissed at the kid for sss-sss-starting the whole shitty sss-sss-sss-situation.”

“What did your supervisor say?”

“Sarah? She’s cool. She essentially told the parent that mmmmmmy sss-pah-eech dah-doesn’t affect my wah-work in the least. She told them I’m rrr-rrr-really good at mm-my job and that the kids all rr-really like mm-me and this is the first time anyone has complained about mmm-mmm-me.”

“Well that’s good. Isn’t that what matters? That your supervisor has your back?”

“Yeah.”

“What did the parent say after that?”

“That they wah-wah-wanted to lodge a, a, a, formal complaint.”

“Seriously?”

Blaine nods.

“So what does that mean?”

“I-I-I guess it’ll go in mmmmmy file. I dunno. It s-s-s-s-seems like it wah-won’t buh-be a problem. Lots of people have formal complaints in their files be-be-be-because nah-nah-no parent ever wants to hear that their kid dah-did ssssssomething wrong. Sarah ss-ss-says she has like 10. And they go away after a year.”

“I mean, I think I get why you’re pissed, but it sounds like everything will be okay in the end.”

“It’s just that it’s embarrassing. And I-I-I-I-I thought things www-were getting bb-bb-bb-better with my sss-sss-spah-speech. And …” Blaine shrugs. Apparently his mouth just realized that he’s talking to a stranger and decided to rebel.

“Lots of stuff is embarrassing. You get over it.”

Blaine feels his lips twitch with all the things he never says, all of the thoughts he never lets himself verbalize about his speech. And then they start spilling out, to this near stranger sitting across from him.

“I-I-I’ve bb-bb-been wah-working really hard on my ss-ss-stutter lately. I-I-I go to ss-speech therapy three times a wah-week and I thought things ww-ww-were getting beh-beh-better. And then ssss-something like this happens and it just feels awful. It makes me feel like I can’t change it, that I’ll never have control over it. That trying is …completely.” Blaine shakes his head and makes a little gesture of surrender with his hands. “Hopeless.”

“I doubt it’s hopeless,” Justin says, sympathetically. “Unfortunately, I really have no advice of any worth for you.”

“It’s okay. I-I-I dah-don’t rr-really na-na-na-need advice.” Blaine sighs and smiles. “Maybe I-I-I just needed a near sss-strah-stranger’s ear.”

“I’m telling you, sometimes it’s easier.”

Blaine sucks in a breath. He knows why this is really getting to him, it’s clear all of a sudden.

“I... I’m going to be be be be a teacher, ss-ss-someday.”

Justin tips his head and looks at Blaine curiously.

“I-I-I’m going to have to talk to parents for mmm-mmm-my whole career. I-I-I hate that the first time I had to dah-dah-deliver bah-bah-bad news it went dah-down like this.”

“Maybe it’s only uphill from here,” Justin says optimistically.

“Maybe,” Blaine agrees.

They chat for a few more minutes and then Justin says he needs to go.

Blaine waves goodbye, genuinely feeling better.

~~~~~

On Wednesday, Blaine wakes up with a horrible feeling in his chest. He has a full day of classes to get through (including ASL, which still makes him happy) but he also has work later and he can’t seem to shake the dread. On top of that he has the second session of his adult intensive therapy group tonight, which he’s actually looking forward to.

So, as long as he can get through work without incident, he knows the rest of his evening will be great and then at least he has the next day off. It’ll be good to get away from the kids and the parents and the embarrassment. He can do this. He can get through it.

When he got home from the coffee place last night, he talked the incident out again with Matt, who suggested that he take a little time to talk it over with Sarah. Blaine knew he was right, no matter how much he didn’t want to have to bring it up all over again.

Also, upon further reflection, it wasn’t the worst it could have been. Luckily, there weren’t any other parents or kids around when the worst of the berating was going on. And he doesn’t think anyone heard the parent talking to Sarah.

But he does make a point of getting to work early, so that he can explain to Sarah a little bit more what happened and what he’s going to do to make sure it never happens again.

When he gets to the school, Sarah is getting out the bag of dodgeballs. They always give the kids some free gym time as they come in.

She smiles at him when she sees him. “Hey, Blaine. I’m happy to see you.”

He smiles weakly and takes a deep breath. She speaks again though before he can get started.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok after yesterday.”

“That I’m ok?” He asks, incredulous.

“Yeah, you’re not too upset right? Not gonna quit on me or anything?”

“Um. No. Definitely nah-nah-not.”

“Good.”

He starts helping her put some cones around the gym. A couple weeks ago, Blaine had an idea to set up different obstacles every day and the kids have gotten really into it. Sarah thought it was a great idea and now she helps him to make it a different challenge every day.

He takes a gulp of air. “I-I-I wah-wanted to tell you, um.” He pauses, feeling a block settle in. He clears his throat and tries again. “I-I-I-I wa-wa-want you to know that I’m really wah-working on my spah-spah-speech.”

“I’ve noticed.” She smiles at him. “You sound a lot better than when you started here. Not to mention that you talk a lot more now in general.”

Blaine can’t help but smile back and then look away for a minute. Even the tiniest bit of praise can make his heart swell and his cheeks heat up. Somehow this praise feels huge, because they never talk about his speech. He brought it up in his interview, but it hasn’t been a topic they’ve discussed since then. The idea Sarah has noticed his improvement makes him feel amazing. He blinks a couple times, digesting his thoughts.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, heart still overflowing with something that’s starting to feel an awful lot like relief. Relief that he’s getting through this conversation, relief that he’s not in trouble at work.

“Don’t let people like that get you down Blaine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was around the corner when you started explaining it to that mom. You presented the situation well, you said everything right. You didn’t accuse, you gave her child a compliment and then you told her about the incident. She just didn’t want to hear it.”

“Buh-buh-buh-ut if I didn’t ss-st-st-st-stutter...” He trails off. He’s not entirely sure where he even wanted that sentence to go. There are far too many ways to end it, too many variables.

Luckily Sarah seems to know what he was getting at.

“It wouldn’t have mattered. She didn’t want to hear anything negative about her little angel. I actually found out they’ve been having behavioral problems with the daughter in the classroom, too. But that’s between me and you.”

Sarah catches his eye and Blaine nods in understanding.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. And I may have already lost the complaint in your file. No one will ever be the wiser,” Sarah tells him conspiratorially. “I couldn’t actually throw it away, but it’s not exactly... easy to find in there.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Really. You’re too good at this job and I won’t let anyone tell you differently.”

His face splits into a wide grin and the kids start coming in then.

“Blaine!” several kids yell as they run towards him, one of the smaller ones throwing his arms around Blaine’s waist.

“Hey guys,” he says happily.

“What kind of obstacle did you set up today?” one of the older ones asks.

“Uh. Sarah and I-I-I set up sss-some cones, for a race.”

A small cheer goes up from the crowd that had surrounded him and they all scurry away to try to be first in line.

Things are ok. Better than ok even.

~~~~~

When Blaine arrives at group therapy that evening, he’s overcome with hesitance even though he’s already done this once. It’s just the kind of guy he is.

He peeks into the room and is immediately spotted by the therapist, Megan. She waves him in. He’s a little bit early, so he has plenty of seating options. The chairs are arranged in a tight circle during group, so it’s not like he has anywhere to hide.

He sits on the edge of one of the folding chairs and slides his backpack underneath. He hooks his heels on the rung of the chair, so his knees almost come up to his chest and then he crosses his arms. He’s uncomfortable in this big room where people can see him. But he really does want to be here. Blaine is aware that it will probably take him some time to get used to it though.

He was mostly quiet last week, just trying to take in the scene and get a grasp on what was expected of him here, which it turns out, is sort of nothing. You don’t ever have to talk in group, it’s obviously encouraged, but you don’t have to. The point is to talk when you want to. And it’s amazing how it takes the pressure right off.

The other people in his group are older than him, mostly 20’s and 30’s, a few even older than that. But it doesn’t matter, because like Chad said, they’re all in the same boat. Some of them are a lot worse off than Blaine, speechwise, but it sort of seems like they don’t care as much as he does, because they all just... talk. They don’t seem to give their stutter a second thought and instead they chat and prattle and make conversation. He thinks some of them might be like him, quiet and reserved, outside in the world, but here in this room they all seem to want to speak and be heard.

He was a little overwhelmed by all the stuttering at the first session actually. Chad is the first person he ever met in real life with a stutter and Chad’s stutter is barely there most of the time. But to hear a roomful of stuttering non-stop for 2 hours is an entirely different experience.

They all have different rhythms and secondary characteristics. Some of their stutters are similar to Blaine’s, but a lot of them aren’t. He knows that everyone’s stutter is unique, but to hear all of the different styles is interesting. He had to try really hard not to openly stare at everyone. It was like he wanted to drink in their differences, while at the same time relishing their similarities.

Last week was a basic “getting to know each other” scenario. They did some ice breakers and some name remembering games. His therapy group is basically the opposite of ASL, a lot of emphasis is placed on people’s names, probably because they all want to be able to say their own fluently. When they left last week, it was made clear that mostly the course would focus on a different game or activity every session that required a lot of talking. They would take breaks from the activities or whatever to discuss the difficulties that arise.

He promised himself when he left last time that no matter, he would try to be more involved during the next session.

When Megan, calls everyone into the circle, she mentions that she forgot one of the ice breaker activities she likes to do during the first meeting.

“I like everyone to not only say their name, but tell us if you usually have a problem with your first name or your last name and what that problem tends to be. You can also tell us if you’ve come up with any kind of solution or workaround, that helps you, even if it’s only some of the time. But don’t say your name first, tell us about your issue first and then say ‘My name is fill-in-the-blank.’”

People around him all nod and Blaine feels a bit panicky. But he can do this. He can talk about this. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to go first.

When they get around to him, people have confessed a lot of different problems. Most of them have trouble with their first name, just like Blaine.

He looks around the circle quickly and then looks at his hands.

“I... I-I can’t ever say my first n-n-n-name without ss-stuh-stuh-stuttering. I-I-I can think of, like, twice in mmmm-my whole life that I have. It’s not as bah-bah-bah-bad as it used to b-b-b-be. St-st-still not great though.”

Other people had added anecdotes or stories to their answers and now his story bubbles out of him. “When I-I-I wah-was a kid, um, everyone, the other kids, they called mm-me Blah. All the time. Be-be-be-be-cause when I said mm-my name I would get st-st-stuck on the first sound, over and over. Blah, blah, blah.” He inhales and darts his eyes around and everyone’s still listening, open faces, kind eyes, patient smiles, so he continues. “I-I-I s-s-started b-b-b-believing I was Blah. Like I would call my-my-myself that in my head when I m-m-m-essed up.” He hadn’t expected that part to come out.

“Anyway, um. So. Now I-I-I try to, like, start on the b sssssound instead of the b-l sound and it works beh-beh-better.” Another glance shows him the same group of interested faces, so he continues, because he feels like he can. He looks at the floor though, as he finishes up.

“I-I-I think I end up s-s-s-sounding like a sheep nah-now, buh-buh-buh-ut I can get through it, with just a couple re-re-re-repetitions and not as mmmmm-many bah-bad bl-bl-blocks. I dunno. I guess I’m wah-wah-working on it.”

When he looks up again, everyone’s smiling at him and Megan is giving him a thumbs up.

“Oh. And. My... n-n-n-name is … Bah-bah-laine.” He decides to cancel his block and try again. “Blay-aine.” Better. Closer. He’ll take it as a victory.

The guy next to him gives him a hearty clap on the back. “Never easy,” he says with a knowing head shake. Blaine smiles at him and settles back in his chair.

He feels cleansed. He feels unburdened. He’s talked about this before, with Paula when he was younger and with Chad, of course. But to say all of this, to confess to a group of people about this flaw that has always felt so huge, has left him feeling powerful. It’s left him wanting to talk.

And then magic happens.

After they’re finished with the name discussion, Megan announces the activity will be a vocabulary building game. And Blaine can’t help but jump in right from the start. He stutters freely and without any hard blocks. It’s probably the most relaxed his speech has ever been.

Everybody sees him, but nobody notices him. He’s not singled out for being different. He had no idea that this kind of freedom could exist. Blaine has never wanted so much to be listened to. He’s never felt so determined to get his answers in. He feels a slight competitive edge coming on even and he smiles when he thinks about telling Kurt about it someday. He finds himself raising his voice at one point and he stops and slumps back in his chair.

He takes a few deep, steadying breaths and glances around. Blaine realizes that no one here minds. No one in this group cares if he’s noisy and stutters loudly or noticeably. No one gives a shit if he messes up and has to try three (or five, or ten) times to get the right word or phrase or sentence out. He changes his posture again and jumps back in the fray.

At the end of the session, one of the older women in the group approaches him.

“And here I thought you you you you were going to be a qui-et-et-et one,” she says with a smile.

Blaine grins and makes a face. “I-I-I-I usually am a quiet one,” he tells her honestly.

“Well, you sha-sha-shouldn’t be. You have a ver-y-y-y-y nice voice.” With that she gives his shoulder a squeeze and Blaine can’t help but blush a little. You’re such a sucker for a compliment, he chides himself. Middle-aged woman usually don’t make him blush like this.

After everything that’s happened yesterday and today, he only wanted to make it through. But now he feels like he’s had successes, small victories and even some large victories.

All things considered, Blaine has had a very good day.