The train windows were dirty with fingerprints, making me wonder about who had sat in the seat that I currently sat in, who had struggled and who had sat there shaking with anticipation to arrive at their destination. I thought of people with traveling built into their hearts, and I touched my chest thinking that maybe I could be one of those people. With too much on my mind, I closed my eyes and fell into sleep. In my dream, I was made of smoke coming from Blaine’s cigarette, evaporating as quickly as I appeared. And he couldn’t hold me, we couldn’t touch, and it was a lot like the current state of my life, if I wanted to interpret it.

I woke up in Ohio a few hours later. When I got off the train, I spotted my dad instantly. I didn’t want him to see me like this, so I tried the best I could to mask my emotions. I wanted him to think that things had changed for the better. He deserved that.

“Kiddo!” He gave me a hug, reminding me that I did have one last safe place left in the world, in my father’s arms.

“Hey, Dad. How are you?” I smiled as big as I could while we walked over to the baggage claim, hoping that when we got in the bright light of the station that I didn’t look like a complete wreck. 

“I’m fine. It’s chaotic at the house, it being so close to Christmas. You know Carole, always thinkin’ she needs to impress everyone with the decorations. It’s hard not having you around for that stuff.” He put his arm around me, rubbing my arm. “How about you? How’s the windy city treatin’ ya?”

“It’s…it’s really great. It’s not New York, but it’s something.” I watched him as he took a long look at me, a smile stretching across his face.

“It’s good to have ya back, kiddo.” He reached over and ruffled my hair, and for a moment, lying felt like it was worth it.    After the long drive home, it was time for a late dinner. A ton of my family members were already over for the holidays, making everything a lot more difficult than I had anticipated. I spent a lot of time escaping outside, wishing that I had taken up smoking to have a better excuse. I thought of Blaine briefly, the romantic swirl of cigarette smoke escaping his lips. The first ones I had kissed and meant it. I sat on the porch steps, breathing in a way that created fog from the cold. I heard the front door creak open but tried to ignore whoever had tried to follow me by staring off into space. 

“Kurt, can I ask you a question?” The voice belonged to my aunt Jennifer, the only one of my mother’s relatives that still frequently visited after my father remarried. She was young, stunning, and interesting. I usually enjoyed her company, but she had a way of figuring me out that was intimidating. As I grew older, I strayed away from her more and more by the year. It was like she could see right through me. It reminded me of my mother. 

“Yeah.” I answered unwillingly, moving over as she sat down beside me.

 “Who broke your heart?”

“Goddamnit.” I looked away from her, “Why would you think that?”

“Listen, Kurt. We both know I seem to get you better than anyone else in this family. And do you want to know why? It’s your eyes.” She smiled, “I can always tell from your eyes how you’re feeling. There’s something there that makes sense to me, it helps me understand you. I think Lizzy would like that.” I cringed at my mother’s name, not out of disgust, but it always gave me this uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Especially lately, I knew that I wasn’t doing her any justice. I wasn’t the son she raised me to be in the short amount of time she had to make an impact. I was a mess, and Jennifer saw that.

“His name is Blaine.” I finally said. His name wasn’t easy to hear out loud either. I felt my eyes getting heavier as tears weighed them down. I was tired, tired of crying, tired of being unhappy, and tired of not being the Kurt I had always promised myself I would be. “It’s…it was stupid. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?” She looked at me with more concentration, “Are you sure it was stupid?”

“No.” I felt smaller than ever as she spoke to me, shrinking like Alice trying to get in the door to wonderland. Shrinking like clothes in the dryer. Getting smaller and smaller until there’s nothing. Just bits of me left as remains. I covered my face with my hands. “It was only a few days and I could tell that it was everything. It could have never been nothing.” I felt Jennifer’s hand on my back, her head against my shoulder.

“You have to fight for it. If it’s everything, you can’t let it become nothing.” I guess she was right. But I couldn’t fight the need to get up and away from her. I excused myself silently and went inside, passing the room full of people eating dinner and going up to my bedroom. I locked the door and went over to my suitcase to unpack. My phone sat on my bed, the screen lit, I reached over and picked it up. It was him. Of course it was him. I looked at his name, my eyes blurring as I focused harder and harder on the letters. I had five text messages and three unanswered calls from him. I didn’t know what that could mean. I opened a text message and saw what I needed to see, five words: I wanted you to stay.

The next morning I woke up without Blaine on my mind. I was thinking about home. Thinking about how my room didn’t change a bit while I was gone. Even my pillows and blankets smelled the same. I thought about my father and how I tried to keep him out of everything. I didn’t want to be that son. I wanted to be better. I looked at the clock, noticing I had woken up earlier than planned and snuck downstairs quietly. The house was overly silent, just the hum of the fridge and the buzz of electronics still plugged in from the previous day. I looked through the cupboards and found all the ingredients I needed. I began to cook breakfast for everyone, not even thinking about cooking healthy. I wanted my family to be happy; I wanted to feel that in a room with everyone. I started to make waffles and pancakes, searching for bacon for a side and oranges to make fresh juice. I got everything together and began stacking tall plates of the items I made. I accomplished something. It had been awhile. Soon the stairs were creaking as people noticed the smell of food cooking and the dining room began to fill. I set the table and watched my family slowly awaken to the idea that I did this. They rubbed their eyes and smiled all around, whispering about me. I leaned against the refrigerator, tired and proud. I could see him in the corner of my eye before I acknowledged him. 

My stepbrother was and is the biggest idiot I have ever met. But he isn’t annoying, he’s the kind of guy that you know isn’t the brightest but you still feel warm when you talk to him, warmer than you would talking to a normal person. That’s just how he is. He says stupid things sometimes but he can also be the most caring individual I know. He stood there looking at me, a goofy grin stretching across his face. 

“You did good, bro. Haven’t seen Burt so happy in months.” Finn finally spoke up, walking past me to grab a glass from the cupboard. “I know things have been shitty for you. We all know it. But the worst part has been seeing you fake that things aren’t shitty. Just…let things be shitty. Ya know? Like, stop pretending that you’re happy when you aren’t. It makes things harder on the old man.” He elbowed me, breaking my stare contest with the wall. I nodded at him, taking a deep breath.

“I am happy. I’m happy right now.” 

“Go out there. They’re all waiting for you.” He disappeared into the dining room, and I stood there unsure if I should go.  I gathered my courage and opened the door, standing before my lively and laughing family members. My dad looked up from his plate and smiled at me, the only one targeting me in any way. I smiled back, walking over to the empty chair beside him and taking a seat.  I filled my plate while listening to the conversations around me, trying to contribute here and there with comments.  I liked the old familiar feeling of making someone laugh, it rushed through me and I thought of hurricanes and how maybe with this kind of fuel, I really was one. 

“How do you feel right now, Kurt?” My father asked on the last day of winter break, as I packed my suitcase and laughed at Jennifer trying on my clothes. He entered the room and cleared his throat, Jennifer shyly ducking out as I continued packing. He coughed again, making me turn and look at him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Dad, you know that I’m doing well.” I smiled at him. I was. I had started dressing like myself again, doing my hair, laughing like I used to. The break had helped. My family had carried me through the struggle. 

“But are you gonna keep it up? Don’t lie to me this time.” 

 “How did you know I was lying?” He laughed, walking towards my bed and sitting at the foot of it. I looked at him as his hands flattened out the comforter beneath him.

“Kiddo, I can read you like a book. You’re my son. It’s what I do.” I sat down beside him. 

“If you can read me so well, why didn’t you say something before?” My father sighed, wrapping an arm around me. “I had to let you figure things out yourself, Kurt. You’re an adult now.” He smiled, “As much as I hate to admit it.” He began to get up to leave, but I stopped him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

“Do you trust me?” I asked him, rushing the words out of my throat, nervous for an answer. I had wanted to ask this for awhile. I wanted to know if this entire thing with Blaine would be something my father wouldn’t allow, something that he wouldn’t trust me with. Jennifer had told me to fight for him, but what would my dad think? How would he feel knowing I slept with a married man? I tugged on my own sleeves. The thought was too much, enough for a relapse.

“Of course I do.” I turned away from him, biting my lips to hold back the tears forming. “What is this about, Kurt?”

“You said you trusted me, right?” I inhaled hard, “Well… I’ll tell you when I’m ready, okay?” He stood in the doorframe, considering it, before nodding slowly.

“Okay.” He half whispered. I got on the train the next day.

The office building was the same as it was before I left. The city felt the same. Nothing had changed. Or had it? Did I change? I looked down at my wrists, the faded scars peeking out from under my sleeves. Entering the building could easily be interpreted as me asking to mess up the streak I had going, but it was more than that. I went for the door handle, prepared to walk straight through and to the elevator. 

“Kurt?” I turned around, my eyes searching for him. He was on my left side, walking down the street with a cardboard box in his arms. One of his eyes was bruised, but he still looked beautiful with the newly fallen snow covering his dark curls. I smiled at him, walking towards him. He put the cardboard box down and pulled me into a hug. I felt relief wash over me, happiness trickling through my veins as he held me tighter. “It’s so good to see you.”

 “Yeah.” I said, a little breathless and starry eyed, we stood there looking at each other. Unsure how to begin. 

“Let’s go inside. We should talk.” 

It was silent up until the door closed behind us, a brief click enclosing us in our secret space. The room wasn’t the same as I had left it; many cardboard boxes covered the floor, the bed was gone, and papers were scattered about. Two empty wine bottles sat on the window sill, stealing my attention, I walked over to them. I picked one up, looking at the label, Blaine leaned against the wall – waiting. 

 “What’s with the boxes?” I finally spoke up, he looked away from me. 

“I got my own place.” Blaine went to sit down in a chair by the window, motioning for me to do the same. I put the wine bottle down and sat looking at him, my fingers itching to touch him. I rolled my chair forward so our knees touched. He flinched momentarily, biting his lip and looking towards the window. “It got really bad at home with Scott. I tried to make it work, but…” He turned back to look at me, “He punched me in the face one night. That’s where I drew the line.” Blaine motioned at his bruised eye. His hands were shaking.

“I’m so sorry, Blaine.” I could have said I told you so, that he should have just loved me like I said, but instead I only could feel sympathy. I wanted to have him in my arms, but I couldn’t tell where we stood. “So…are you…getting divorced?”

 “Not yet. Soon, I think.” His hand touched my knee, “But enough about that. What about this?”

“Are we even a ‘this’? It was only a few days.” He smiled softly. His hand moved up my leg a bit further before he withdrew it. 

“I guess you’re right. What if we were something though?” Blaine replied, looking down and then back up at me through his lashes. I focused on his eyes. They seemed to get darker and darker every time I blinked, from honey brown to chocolate, to something darker that only reminded me of black coffee. It was oddly comforting, looking at him like that. I licked my lips.

 “I never said we weren’t something. We definitely weren’t nothing.” We both smiled at each other. “I really like you, Blaine.” He shook his head at me, opening his mouth and not being able to find his voice. His eyes grew softer, sadder, and he took my hands in his. 

“I like you. I do. But I’m not sure…” He paused, “I’m not sure if this is safe for you or even if I’m good for you.” He held my hands tighter as his eyebrows scrunched together, “Kurt, am I good for you?” 

“I like to think you are. I like to think that I could be good for you, too. I want to be, anyway.” There was an unspoken tension between us. It was obvious Blaine was holding something back. I tried to stare hard enough to see through him, but it wasn’t working. I glanced at the bottles on the windowsill, tasting defeat on the tip of my tongue. Slowly, Blaine dropped my hands; he stood up and ran his hands through his hair.

“I don’t get it. I don’t. Kurt, why don’t you hate me?” He picked up a pile of papers from the floor, gripping them tightly with his fingers. “I fucked you and then told someone else I loved them the very next morning. I didn’t tell you to stay and I didn’t try to make you feel better. I’m an asshole. I’m a fucking asshole and you’re sitting here telling me that you like me. Don’t you see the problem here?” He dropped the papers, and I watched as they fell to the floor around him. He collapsed into the mess, pulling his knees to his chest. I got up from my chair and walked to him, kneeling in the disarray of papers. My eyes caught some of the words written and typed across each piece, my breath catching as I spotted my name. Without thinking, I took the paper into my hands. Blaine reached to stop me, but I brushed him off. I began to read it with my lower lip caught in between my teeth, my mind racing.

I found an angel today, his wings were missing. And this angel, he worried so much that if someone were to notice his wings were clipped they wouldn’t love him. I took him to the hiding place, ready to keep my discovery a secret, but the sun still found him and kept him glowing. He was too beautiful for four walls, and I was too ugly for anything more. I told him who I was and why I was that, so he touched me with healing palms and the sun disappeared. Everything was darker, heavier; his eyes were a shade below what they once were. My heart twisted, sunk, fell to pieces because I had done that, I had broken an angel. I thought of Christmas, the angels surrounding the manger, the glass figurines that were off limits through my childhood and soon I was pushing him out the door. I watched him walking down the street as he made his exit, the glow returning to his cheeks, and his wings reappearing.

I looked over at Blaine, tears rolling down my face as I rummaged through the other papers, finding that many of them were just like this, titled with my name or anything similar. All of them were about me. He dropped to his knees and crawled towards me through the mess of words circling us. Our knees bumped together before he extended his arm to wipe the tears from my face. He became so close to me that our foreheads met, and a tear from his own eyes found its way to my nose.

 “You think you ruined me?” I managed to say, my voice cracking. “You can’t ruin a person in that short of a time, can you?”

“Oh, Kurt.” Blaine closed his eyes, tears dropping from them, “You can ruin a person in less than a minute. You don’t even need a day.”

“But you think that? You think that you did that to me?” I questioned him and he nodded, my tears coming back and my lip finding its way back between my teeth. I lifted my hand to his face, cradling it like I had been dying to, and tried to get myself together. “You’re not an asshole, Blaine. You’re a beautiful, beautiful soul. I wish you could feel that. I wish you could believe me.” And Blaine kept crying, beginning to shake his head along with it, the water dropping onto my face and making me shiver. I leaned over and kissed him lightly, shocking him at first before he melted into it, his eyes fluttering as a faint moan escaped from his mouth. We continued for a brief moment, eventually disconnecting as he moved into my open arms. It felt like a hug at first, but eventually his head found its way to my shoulder, his legs sprawled amongst the clutter of papers. He sniffled into my shoulder, slowly coming down from his anxiety. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re a good person, a great one; don’t let anyone tell you different. Don’t listen to him, don’t listen to yourself. Listen to me right now, alright? I want you to think of this moment when you start thinking like this.” I picked up a sheet of paper and showed it to him, putting it back down beside me. “But don’t let that discourage you from writing, either. That was gorgeous, I promise.” Blaine smiled underneath his tears. 

“You know, you can sometimes fall for someone in less than a minute.” He spoke up as he wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaning into me even more. For that, I only could hold him closer.