April 28, 2013, 5:22 a.m.
Until Next Time: Chapter 16
K - Words: 1,630 - Last Updated: Apr 28, 2013 Story: Complete - Chapters: 21/21 - Created: Apr 28, 2013 - Updated: Apr 28, 2013 123 0 0 0 0
Kurt walked up the familiar steps, feeling as if he was returning home after a long journey. It was Friday; winter break had just begun. He held a few papers in his hands, papers that he printed out in a frenzy that morning from a Word document that had been waiting on his computer for a long time.
It wasn't that he'd forgotten about the contest, but rather the contrary. He was completely conflicted with what to do with it. Kurt didn't know whether he wanted to hand it in to him in person, to change every single thing that he'd written and hand in something normal, something not so revealing, or whether to not do it at all. These clashing thoughts plagued his mind day and night.
After staying up until 2 AM that morning thinking about it, Kurt decided that he'd go through with it and hand in what he'd originally written after Rachel's party. It wasn't like there was any time left to enter it, as that Friday was the last day.
From what he'd heard, quite a few people had participated. Everyone in the glee club did, and Mercedes and Tina assured him that they saw quite a few papers in the collection box at the library. His English teacher said that it counted for extra credit, so that was quite an incentive for everyone in their class.
It would be a quick stop at the library, since he needed to get back to rehearsals for glee club. He told them that he had to run a few "errands", and that it should take him a half an hour, which meant that he'd have to improve his speed-walking mile time a little bit. Kurt opened the doors and strode in, fully appreciating the heat that welcomed him.
Behind the desk in the front stood Mrs. Devon, who was chatting with a man whose back was turned to Kurt. Kurt looked left and right, searching for the box, but couldn't find it. It was nowhere to be seen;did he already collect it?
"Excuse me, Mrs. Devon?" Kurt walked up to her; she turned to him, a shocked expression on her face. "I was wondering if the collection box-"
The man next to her turned to him. It was Blaine with the box in his hands. Kurt felt every muscle within his body freeze. He opened his mouth for a second, and then closed it. Before Blaine or Mrs. Devon could say anything, he flung the entry into the box and rushed towards the doors.
He heard Blaine call out his name as he left the building, but it was drowned out in the sound of the drumming of his heart against his ribcage, pounding hard enough to shatter his bones.
"Kurt!" Blaine shouted at the boy. He set down the box on the counter as he watched Kurt practically run out of the building, feeling a sinking feeling in his chest.Why did he look so scared when he saw me?Blaine wondered. He turned to his grandmother, who had a forlorn look on her face. Then, something clicked in Blaine's mind.
"How does Kurt know you? He called you 'Mrs. Devon'," he asked her; she shook her head, looking down at the ground.
"I guess you're just going to have to read what he wrote to you," she sighed. There was a strange tone to her voice. Blaine contemplated her comment, and then walked to the room he was so familiar with.
His hands were shaking quite violently as he lifted Kurt's entry from the box after he sat himself down in the corner of the teen room. His mind was slowly becoming awakened to what his grandmother had implied, and was beginning to become aware of their connection to him and Kurt. He sat back in his chair and started to read, his eyes devouring the words on the multiple sheets of paper...
Entry 25:The Fault in Our Starsby John Green
BDA-
Personal Note: I wanted to make this entry as inconspicuous as possible at first, where you would never be able to tell it was me and then I'd win and then you'd realize it was me and everything work out perfectly and I would never have written a run-on of this length if I wrote a different entry. Something changed last night, though. Now I know that I was meant to tell you this way.
Review: You know the deal with these books. We've done John Green before. This one, however, shook me in particular, as you can tell by these many pages (sorry, I think it'll be worth it, though).
I guess for my review, or summary, or whatever you'd like to call it, I'll just quote important and over-used quotes and explain how they affected me, for the sake of spoilers (yes, this is a spoiler-free review: you're welcome! I wasn't sure if you read this book or not. It's a crime if you haven't, so I suggest you change that). Here goes nothing...
Andby now you should have figured out who I am... Oops.
"And then there are books...which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like betrayal."
First of all, I know that the sentence broke a major rule, which I referenced above. This quote, however, is one that I can relate to myself. Before the Project, I was selfish. I kept all of these books, everything I was feeling and experiencing,myself, inside. I couldn't tell anyone anything. I also felt like no one could understand me, like no one could comprehend why I loveHarry Potterso much, or why I like boys, and so on. I guess I felt it was a betrayal to myself to reveal all of these things that I had to remain secretive—I was still evasive even after I let my biggest one out.
You, of course, changed that.
Now, onto another famous one:
"Pain deserves to be felt."
How I have truly understood that line this year. Not just the physical aspect of it, but the emotional one as well. When I couldn't find the Book in the library...Pain came back. It was a different kind of pain, one unrelated to getting kicked in the ribs having your arm sewn up—but even more painful than that. It stared me straight in the eyes, silently pleading for me to break, to shatter into a thousand pieces scattered around the floor and never to be put together again.
I have known Pain for so long, yet this I was exposed to its unfamiliar side. It was one that crept into my heart and plucked at its strings, desperately seeking out a tune that could not be completed...without you.
This is completely corny, I know, but it's one in the morning and you're all I can think about.
You're smart, I think you might understand this implication. I didn't understand myself until last night. I think I get it now, though, and I hope you will too, by the end of this, which I can hardly call an entry now.
What this year so far has taught me is "The world is not a wish granting factory." While the world is mostly made up of awful, awful people, there are some that you just happen upon that make up for it all. Then there is that one person...
So I guess what I'm trying to say is—oh, here is the perfect quote:
"It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you," Blaine.
I do believe that "Some infinities are bigger than other infinities." I know that the memory of this exchange we had will be ingrained in my mind and heart for forever, but I don't want just the intangible to be infinity. I hope our...whatever you can describe our relationship as... belongs to the bigger category.
This is absolutely insane, with us only knowing of each other for over a month and not even properly meeting each other, and I feel this way. It's completely irrational, absurd, ludicrous, nonsensical, basically every synonym for "crazy." For some reason, though, it just seems so real. I kind of like it.
In the words of Augustus Waters, "My thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations." I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself—I needed to use it, even though it's so over-used; I hope you'll forgive me.
Well, I guess this is it. I'm sorry that this is so awfully written, since it's now 3 in the morning. I don't know what you're going to do with this, but can you do a favor for me? When you finish reading this paper, can you put it in the Book? I don't care if you glue these pages in, or tape in the torn pieces if you rip this up, or if you rewrite it in word for word. Just put it all in, even this part.
Okay?
^^ No. We're not going to do that.
Until Next Time,
-KH
PS. My last name is Hummel. You should remember my first—I hope you do.
Blaine read the post-scripture again and again, his eyes crossing after the tenth re-read. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to calm himself down. His cheeks were taut underneath his palms from the large smile on his face.
"He has no idea," Blaine said aloud to no one in particular, adding a small, nervous laugh at the end.
He looked at the multitude of other entries in the box, more than he'd ever expected from McKinley High School. He turned his head back to KH's—Kurt's—entry in front of him.
I'll get through all of these entries and make a decision later, he thought, but first I need to readThe Fault in Our Stars. Maybe I'll be able to understand Kurt even better after reading it; maybe it'll make the entry even better than it already is, which I don't see how that's possible. Kurt is just somoving...