In the morning, while Blaine was in the shower, Kurt found a secluded alcove and called his dad.

Carole answered. “Hi, honey. Are you in Seattle yet? Are Blaine and you having a good time?”

“Hi, Carole. We're still in Yakima, but, yes, we are having a very nice time.” Kurt smiled to himself as he quickly relived in his mind how very “nice” the previous night was. “Is my dad there?”

“Sorry, Kurt, but he had to go up to Bowling Green to pick up some parts. Is there something you can talk to me about?”

Kurt thought about it, and then he figured, why not?

“Carole, how do you know when you're in love?”

There was a silence on the phone while Carole thought about it for a moment, “There's not a checklist, Kurt. I know a big part of it is that the person you love is the person you are happiest being with and also the person who drives you the most crazy. More importantly love means that you are a better person with them then you are without them. Love means that you are willing to make sacrifices and that you don't keep score.”

Carole paused again, then she continued, “You know, now that I think about it, I think most people have the wrong idea about love. I think that people think that love is the most important thing in a relationship, but it's not. It's very important, but it's not more important than commitment and trust.”

“But how do you know who you should commit to? How did you decide that you loved Dad enough to commit to him for the rest of your life? How do you know if your love is that big.”

Carol chuckled. “Oh, sweetie, you don't get love on a plate going through a cafeteria line. Love isn't something served in one big dollop, and then you have to decide whether or not that dollop is big enough to last your whole life. Love is something like the dawn. You get it anew every day. Every day I fall in love with your father, and tomorrow he will make me fall in love all over again. This is what committed love is about, because some days you might not like your partner all that much—they'll make you crazy; but then he will do something—look at you a certain way, or apologize very sweetly, or just smile at you—and there's the love again. So the question isn't about having enough love to be in it for the long haul; the question is can you see yourself falling in love again and again with that person and to be committed to looking for that those things you love in him every day. So some of the question is just whether or not they're worth the work, because some days, Kurt, even your father can be hard to love.

"And Kurt, honey, true love is also something that you never regret. I miss Finn so much, and I miss his dad, but I am so grateful for every day of my life that I got to spend with them, and, if I had to do it all over again, I would, because the thought of never getting to have been with them at all is unthinkable.”

Kurt choked back a sob and then said in a soft voice. “I think I see what you mean.”

After they hung up, Kurt mulled over this conversation for much of the drive to Seattle. Because he was so lost in his own thoughts, Kurt didn't notice that Blaine was uncharacteristically quiet, ruminating over his own future.

As they neared the most outer Seattle suburban towns, Kurt had an epiphany. He remembered Laramie, with Blaine splayed below him, a sweaty, gleaming, ruined beauty. He thought about how breathtaking Blaine was at that moment, and he remembered the look of love in Blaine's eyes when he groaned out, “God, I love you,” for the first time. Kurt realized that what had frightened him to his very core at that moment wasn't the realization that Blaine loved him; it was what he saw in his eyes. Kurt realized that the love that he saw in Blaine's eyes wasn't just Blaine's love for Kurt; it was his own love for Blaine reflecting back at him.

Suddenly, a curtain fell, and Kurt could feel—could, in fact, bask in—his love for Blaine. It didn't matter that Blaine would leave, eventually. What mattered was that Kurt loved Blaine. He loved him, and if the universe only allowed him to love Blaine for a week or a month or six months, he could revel in it and heal his wounds that came from a lifetime of loss. Kurt realized then that by dwelling on all that he had lost—his mom and Finn—he forgot to also remember that he was blessed to have had gotten to spend their short time on earth with him.

A weight of a years that he didn't know he was carrying was lifted from his shoulders, and Kurt felt light as air.

He turned his head and opened his mouth to tell Blaine how he felt, but Blaine spoke first. “Kurt, can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course, sweetie.  Anything.”

“Before you drive home—to your new home—can you take me to Sea-Tac.”

“The town or the airport?”

“The airport. I just want to go home.”

And even though Kurt knew that his heart would be broken when Blaine boarded his plane, he also knew that other parts of his heart had healed and were stronger for having gotten to spend a precious few days with the most amazing man that he loved and would love forever.