It's been three months. Three months, seventeen days, six hours, twenty-three minutes and forty-six seconds. That is how long it has been since he lost him. Since Blaine lost Kurt. Forty-nine seconds. It's been so lonely, here in this large apartment without him. What used to be a world full of brightness and color has been drained to a dull gray, the rain constantly pouring in his head. What was he supposed to do? The very person that he gave the entire world to has left, leaving him to walk blindly through the streets, without any direction as to where to go. Kurt always new where to go, what sights to see, the best restaurants, everything. Now, he's gone, and Blaine seems to have no sense of direction anymore. Twenty-six minutes.

It was hard, getting by at first. He took up most of his vacation time from work, and barely left the place he had lived for the past four years. That was for the first few weeks. He had a lot of vacation time after all, time that needed to be spared. So, for those weeks, he spent it at home, only leaving to pick up groceries, and sat on the couch, reading a book, or anything to get his mind off of what had occurred. It was the only coping method that he could think of. Either that, or working too hard, which he realized wasn't the best option. Neither of them were great options, but he had to choose one. So he went the slow route.

After those first few weeks, he went back to work, and built a routine. Wake up (sometimes), wash up, eat a bowl of cereal, only half full, watch the morning news, and then head off to his job at the local cafe, serving coffee and little treats. Sure, it wasn't much, but it was something he enjoyed, with the warm and joyful environment. Sure, there were memories of old coffee shops and drinks full of great conversations, but that was the past, and this was the present. Memories, in his mind, are to be hidden, and only brought up when deemed necessary, or used in polite conversation. The past is the past, and he can't do anything about it. Even though he wishes every moment that he could go back and change everything, so he wouldn't be left alone.

Forty-three minutes.

He had nightmares often, which scared him from drifting off into sleep. He tried to work up a busy enough schedule over the past two months to keep him from sleeping, but sometimes it just caught up to him, and his eyes couldn't stay open for more than five seconds. So, when he slept, he didn't have peaceful dreams like he used to. Instead, old memories came back to haunt him, and twisted dimensions of the life he lived. The most occurring one was where he was in a room, painted black, and the only light was from an overhead lamp, which was shining on a shining liquid. He would walk up to the liquid, and kneel down, and not know what he was staring at. Then, he would recognize is to be a pool of blood that would start to surround him, the source of where it was coming from unknown, and Blaine would reach down, and touch the blood, lightly, and when he lifted his hands, they were drenched in the dark red liquid. He would wake up then screaming out Kurt's name, the outcome unknown to such an odd nightmare. Every night that this had occurred, he would check his hands, just to make sure that that horrible red color wasn't dripping from his skin. It was probably the main one that kept him from falling asleep at night. Sleeping pills didn't work, since they caused mass hallucinations for him, and any form of keeping these images from creeping into his mind again was a mystery to him. The only way was to become insomniac, and work himself into this routine that he so quickly built up. His friends had tried to cheer him up, and they were great company, but most of the time, he liked the solitude.

Seven hours.

Sometimes Blaine broke his routine, and went to a movie, or played his guitar at a street corner (since the coffee shop didn't bring in a great income), or actually took the time to go to Times Square to just look at all the people around him, and clear his head. The most rare nights when he went to Times Square were the ones when the stars were out. Blaine had always loved staring up the stars, shining bright, making him think that there is hope. Even if you don't see them, they're always there. Nothing can take the stars away.

Seven hours, twenty minutes.

Blaine has been thinking a lot lately. A lot of what he could have done better, and what he did wrong. He's been thinking of ways to fix his mistakes, but there's really no use now. What's done is done, and nothing can really be fully healed anymore. He knew now that Kurt wasn't come back, that he would come running through the crowd, into Blaine's arms. He knew that they would never, could never, be together again. Blaine had messed up, and he realized this now. If only he wasn't still so tortured when the letter came. When he opened it up, he was suddenly boiling with rage, and started thrashing out. He had always had an anger problem, and no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, it would always come out sooner or later. He crumpled the letter, throwing it across the room, and started throwing things, everything he could get his hands on. Three lamps, four coffee cups, six dinner plates and probably three glasses shattered across the room as Blaine let out his anger in such a childish way that he soon became ashamed of. He looked back at the letter, still there, unfurling as it rested against the wall. He climbed over the remnants of broken glass and bulbs, and smoothed out the letter, and placed it on the counter as he started to pick up the broken pieces, trying to clear his head.

Seven hours, fifty-three minutes.

Dear Mr. Anderson,

You are cordially invited to the union of Kurt Hummel and Robert James.

Please arrive at the Eddison Ballroom at 3:00 PM on Saturday of October the Seventeenth.

Please RVSP no later than June the Twenty-Seventh.

Address and other details enclosed.

Please check yes or no if you will be bringing a guest to this union.

PS: Blaine, please read the letter that I have left for you. I would really like you to be there. If you don't, then just understand that I will always love you, even if it's not the way you want it to be. I wish you will understand, and accept this invitation, Kurt.


It has been three months, seventeen days, and eight hours since Blaine lost Kurt, and tomorrow will be Kurt's birthday. They may not be together anymore, and Blaine hasn't seen the boy since their fight, but he will always love the boy, and will celebrate his birthday every year, may it be alone, or with him (depending on if they make their amends). In five months, Kurt will suspect him to be at his wedding, marrying another man. Three months, Blaine hit Kurt, something he has always regretted. Before those three months, they still had their struggles, even over the silliest of things. Blaine may wish, everyday since then that he didn't make all of those mistakes, but nothing is ever perfect, and maybe in this life, they just weren't right for each other. Maybe in another life, they were. He will never know though, since this is the only life he has been given, and in these past three months, he has realized now that he has to move on, since it's what Kurt would have wanted. Blaine needs to pick up the broken pieces of his life, get himself together, and at least make those baby steps to becoming happy.

It's time to stop falling, and start taking his place among the stars, high and mighty, shining bright and giving hope.

Fin.