See the man with the lonely eyes
take a chance you’ll be surprised

Give a Little Bit by Supertramp (or the Goo-Goo Dolls version, but I prefer the original)

This song reminds me of the day you found me bleeding on the curb. That sounds so dramatic, but that’s always how I think of it. It was a turning point for me, with you. There was still a lot of ground to cover and some bumps in the road, but that afternoon changed things for me.

I was so nervous. I felt like I had no control in the situation. I was hoping that you wouldn’t even try to help me. I remember thinking something like “maybe Kurt will just walk away and go about his life and forget about me and I could quit speech and go back to how my life was before he turned it upside down.”

I was so scared Kurt. Nothing was even happening and I was scared.

I was scared of what you might want from me, which sounds stupid, but I didn’t understand how to talk to you or what I should say and when I should say it. Or if I even could say it. I wanted to push you away because you were this variable that I didn’t understand. I didn’t know how to let you into my life. I certainly didn’t know how to act around you.

What made it so difficult for me, looking back, is that my words always sounded so distorted then, I was worried if you would even really understand me. You knew me online where after the first couple back and forths between us, I started to really be myself. But in real life, I thought I was sort of boring because I kept myself hemmed in by what I perceived I could and couldn’t say. To this day, I’m surprised and impressed with the amount of patience you gave me early in our relationship. We wouldn’t be where we are now if you hadn’t been patient.

But at the time, I was torn between liking you and wanting you to like me back, and never, ever wanting to see you again. I had told Cooper earlier that week that I was planning on moving to Siberia where you would never find me because I was embarrassed and that was before the sapling incident.

And then you were walking me home and you stopped me, and you explained yourself. You said something about how you wouldn’t be bothering with me if you didn’t think I was worth it. You told me I had to give a little bit.

I went home that day, knees aching, pride bruised, and completely humiliated. But I learned the chords to this song and I couldn’t get it out of my head for weeks. It sort of became my anthem and my mantra.

I started to give. Just a little bit.

And my life got a brighter everyday.

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

No, no. I’m not crying.

That’s not a tear, it’s a …

Why am I lying to myself? I’m just going to cry for a little while.

I need to call Blaine.

Why can’t I find my cell phone through my tears?

~~~~~

A moment of Blaine’s mom

Blaine was a hesitant baby. When he learned to walk, he used to look up at me as if to say “You’re sure this is a good idea?” He was barely a year old and his face was already that expressive. He was so different from Cooper, who as a toddler would take every opportunity to run away. I would set him on his feet and he would flee. Blaine, on the other hand, would stand there next to me, a steadying hand on my leg, and look around. Even in his own backyard.

As he got older, around 5 or 6, he was thoughtful and quiet, but had a great imagination. He couldn’t always explain what he was doing, but I would find him in his room wearing a sheet like a cape and yelling gibberish at a teddy bear and laughing.

And then he got older still, middle school age, which isn’t a fun time for anyone, it seemed like all the joy went out of him, like a candle went out in a dark room. He was getting teased and he didn’t know how to cope, so he just stayed inside of himself. He stopped talking in school and for the most part he stopped talking at home. I had no idea how to reach him. Worse than that, I had absolutely no idea how to improve things for him.

When he went to high school, things did improve a bit. He quit speech therapy, and at the time I didn’t think it was a good idea, it seemed to help his general mood. He joined the cross country team, which is a solitary sport, but it also gave him a group of people to hang out with, even if he never went to parties or out with them after meets. I didn’t have to picture him by himself at school all the time at least.

We were at the mall one day over the summer before his junior year of high school. He needed new sneakers and we ran into some of the other boys from the team. They were all so nice to him. They asked him if he wanted to go with them to the movies and he said no. I always tried to keep my mouth shut when it came to this stuff. I know there are a lot of politics in high school and for whatever reason, he wasn’t comfortable going with them.

I couldn’t stop myself from asking him later, because they seemed so sincere. I couldn’t figure out why he would reject their attempt at friendship.

“You could have gone to the movies with your friends earlier, Blaine,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You could have ditched me. I wouldn’t mind.”

His eyes went wide and then he started blinking. He had so many different tics back then, I always hated setting him off. But I really wanted to understand.

“I-I-I. I dah-dah-dah-don’t rrr-rrrr-really think they wwwwwwwant mmme around,” he said quietly.

“I don’t think they would invite you to the movies if they didn’t want you around,” I countered.

“They ww-ww-ww-were just be-be-be-be-being nah-nah-nice.”

“Well, yeah. Because they want to be friends with you, I think.”

Blaine scoffed and looked away.

“Aren’t they usually nice to you? Do they,” and this was such a hard question for me to ask, but I needed to know. “Do they make fun you, Blaine?”

His ears reddened, but he shook his head.

“Then why do you think they don’t really want to be your friend?”

“No one r-r-r-r-r-r-really wah-wah-wants to be be be be be be mmmmmm-my friend. And I-I-I-I-I-I can’t talk anyway.”

“That’s the thing about going to the movies,” I said, perhaps overly bright. “You don’t have to talk there.”

He was quiet for a minute after that and I thought maybe I had gotten somewhere with him. Maybe next time they asked him to go out, he would say yes.

But instead he said, “When I-I-I’m ww-ww-ww-ith them I-I-I-I-I feel like like like I can’t bre-bre-bre-bre-brea-the.”

He walked away then but I felt like my heart was ripped to pieces. I never bothered him again about making friends or not making friends or going out. I couldn’t.

Several years later, and I just spent a weekend with him in New York and I met half a dozen people who are genuinely his friends. They’re kind to him, they’re interested in him, they talk to him, and he actually talks back.

He laughs, he makes jokes, he raises his voice, he fights to be heard.

He’s everything I ever wanted him to be.

But more than that, I can tell he’s finally found who he wants to be.

~~~~~

A Moment of Chad

Blaine doesn’t even notice it, I can tell.

He doesn’t even recognize his growing fluency. He’ll say something that even a month ago would have included blocks and repetitions and prolongations, but today maybe it has a quick repetition or an “um” at the beginning. He doesn’t fear words the way he used to. And it’s a wonderful thing to watch.

I wish I could take full credit for it. Although, I could never take full credit for it really, because he and I were in this thing together. But a good portion of the credit really needs to go to his adult group therapy, I can tell.

After the first class he told me that he finally understood what people mean when they say they stutter easily. He feels like when he stutters around all those other people who stutter, it falls out of his mouth. He finds that his breath rate doesn’t increase, that he doesn’t avoid words, he just lets himself talk, but more than that, he just lets himself stutter. I didn’t realize he was still having those issues, he must have been hiding them pretty well from me.

I’m proud of him. I’m proud of him for a hundred reasons, but the biggest reason is that he’s willing to admit things. He’s willing to talk about what makes him hesitate, he’s willing to discuss his own flaws. Blaine looks his problems full in the face these days. When he was plateauing earlier this year, I was waiting for him to quit therapy. There’s definitely a facet of the population that would have walked away then. Feeling that they’d learned all they could and therapy is too intense and if they’re not improving they have better ways to spend their time.

Not Blaine. Blaine decided to take on more therapy. To work harder and try harder. And looking at him now, I know it all paid off.

His speech isn’t perfect, he’ll never be “cured.” But this isn’t the time to think about what never will be, it’s time to look at all the work he’s done. And Blaine has worked hard.

He doesn’t even notice it though. He doesn’t even notice the change. He talks more, jokes more, smiles more, enunciates better. He doesn’t shy away from eye contact (or kind words) the way he used to. I wish he could see the change in himself.

I don’t want to tell him, not yet at least, because then he’ll be conscious of it and the magic will be gone.

Or at least that’s what he’ll tell me.

He’s fairly superstitious about his speech.

~~~~~

A moment of Matt

We’re seeing an apartment a couple blocks from the dorm and it’s sort of perfect. The bathroom isn’t gross, the rent isn’t terrible, it’s a railroad style apartment, but that’s ok. Blaine and I are used to sharing a room, so even just having a wall between us will seem like a luxury.

Usually I take the reins with this stuff. It’s a fact of life with Blaine. He smiles and nods and listens intently, but doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t give opinions. If the landlord walks away for a minute he’ll tell me what he thinks, but I guess it’s usually too much pressure for him to talk in front of strangers.

But today, when the landlord asks if we have any questions, Blaine is quick to ask about utilities. It comes out of nowhere. I try not to look at him or make a shocked face because, hey, it’s one less thing that I have to do.

But it’s like he forgot to be Blaine for a second.

We decide to take the apartment on the spot. It’s really kind of perfect of us, the price is right, and Blaine’s happy that it’s so close to Kurt’s.

On our way back to the dorm, we stop to get a celebratory coffee.

He’s ahead of me in line and when the barista asks for our order, I open my mouth, but Blaine’s there first, ordering for me and him. She asks for a name and he says, “Blaine.” Simple as that.

We move down to wait for our order and he turns to look at me.

“What the hell dih-dih-did I-I-I just do?” he asks quietly.

“I have no fucking clue,” I tell him honestly.

He shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear it and then shrugs and smiles, as if to say “I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.” But he doesn’t have to say it because he knows I’ll understand.

And somehow that’s exactly why he’s my best friend.

~~~~~

A moment of Puck and Rachel

“Did you mention it to Blaine?” Rachel asks out of nowhere, as she absently stirs spaghetti sauce on the stove.

“Did I mention what to Blaine?” Puck asks back, from where he sits on a stool at the kitchen island, cutting up a tomato.

“The party idea,” she answers, rolling her eyes, like he’s supposed to read her mind or something.

“I thought you were gonna mention it to Blaine,” Puck replies.

“No-ahhhhh,” she says, exasperation flooding her tone. “He’ll suspect something if it comes from me, but if you bring it up casually, he’ll never know what hit him.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t he suspect something if it comes from me? I’m his friend.”

“Because you’re not particularly thoughtful to begin with.”

“What the fuck do you mean I’m not thoughtful? I got you those flowers when you had that crappy day. I’m not a complete dickhead.”

“Fine. You’re not a complete dickhead.”

“Good. Now what do I have to say again?”

“That you were talking to me and I was saying how we should have a welcome back party for Kurt, but since he’s getting back the day before Blaine’s birthday, maybe we should hold off on Kurt’s party.”

Puck raises an eyebrow.

“And Blaine will want to have Kurt’s party instead of doing something for his birthday and he’ll never suspect that we’re actually having a surprise party for him.” Rachel claps her hands.

“Sounds kinda shitty to trick him like that actually.”

Rachel pauses for a second, Puck isn’t wrong.

“It is a little shitty,” Rachel concedes. “But he’ll be so surprised that we’re having a party for him. And Kurt thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Well, if Kurt thinks it’s a good idea,” Puck says as he rolls his eyes, mimicking her. He walks over to Rachel, snakes his arms around her waist and hooks his chin over her shoulder.

“He does.”

“Well then, I’ll mention it next time I see Blaine.”

“Excellent. You’re a good minion,” Rachel coos as she pats Puck’s head.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You shut the fuck up,” she says jovially.

“Make me,” he challenges. Puck expects a kiss, instead he gets a spoonful of boiling hot spaghetti sauce.