Kurt never thought he would look back at his teenage years wistfully. Back then, he couldn't wait to be an adult, get out of Lima. But back then, he thought he would always have Blaine.

They both knew it was a stretch. Meeting your soulmate in high school? Never. But they made it, through the year they were apart, and after. They had fights, but mostly times were good.

The year Kurt was in New York, but Blaine was still in Ohio, Blaine suggested that they write letters to each other every week. At first Kurt thought it was a little silly, they Skyped, called, and texted so frequently, writing seemed archaic. But, Blaine admitted shyly, a letter was permanent. It would be something to look forward to, little parts of each other.

Throughout that year, they wrote each other letters every week. Sometimes they included other items, but the letter was always the most important.

-

Even after Blaine joined Kurt in New York and they were living together, they wrote letters and exchanged them every Friday night. No matter how busy they were, they found time for a tradition.

They kept all the letters in two boxes: one for each of them. On anniversaries they would read through some of their favorites.

During Blaine's senior year of college, Kurt proposed in his letter. When he saw Blaine's expression turn to shock, he got on one knee and held up the ring.

Blaine accepted, of course, and at their wedding two years later, he read a portion of that letter to their family and friends.

-

When Blaine was 28, he wrote a two-worded letter to Kurt, because he had nothing left to say.

"I'm sick."

Their lives changed drastically. More and more time was spent at the hospital, but still every week they exchanged letters.

-

A few weeks after Blaine turned 31, he wrote an especially long letter, with everything he had wanted to say, a few apologies, and two final words.

"Goodbye, Kurt."

When Kurt read it, he looked up to where Blaine was lying in the hospital bed, thin and pale and so tired.

Both their eyes were wet, and Blaine looked at Kurt pleadingly.

Kurt held Blaine's hand firmly, though he was shaking a little, and breathed out an "Okay"

A semblance of happiness appeared on Blaine's face, and he took a shuddery breath.

"Come here."

Kurt obeyed silently, cramming into the small space the bed provided. Blaine curled around him, and Kurt stroked his hair.

There was nothing left to say.

Nothing, except –

"I am never going to say goodbye to you" Kurt managed to whisper to Blaine.

A smile crept across Blaine's face, and he closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, his chest stopped moving, and the steady, tinny scream of the machine filled Kurt's ears.

He finally let go, clutching his husband and sobbing as nurses filed in.

-

Kurt still wrote a letter every week.

He never really dated anyone, even though after a few years he tried going on a few casual dates. They didn't work out.

Six years after Blaine's death, he adopted a baby girl. She had Blaine's smile. He named her Lily, the way they'd planned.

When she was older (almost as old as Blaine was), she asked why he never loved anyone again.

He shrugged and smiled faintly, saying, "He was all I needed."

-

Kurt never thought he would look back at his teenage years wistfully. But that was when he thought he would always have Blaine.