It gets to the point where Blaine cant remember what records he even owns. He buys more, when he has the money to spare. The way he sees it hes investing in therapy, the music helps him verbally express things hes never been able to put into words himself. His art helps him clear his mind and lose himself for a while whereas music helps him think, wade through and unravel the tangled mess of heart and mind. It helps him when Maggie cant, when hes home and alone and he has to force himself not to walk into the spare bedroom, (Kurts bedroom a voice in the back of his head reminds him unhelpfully) collapse on the bed and breathe in the scent that no longer lingers there.

I get along without you very well

Of course, I do

Its a Sunday afternoon when he realises that moping isnt helping. He was planning on working but as he skims through his sketchbook he lands on a simple sketch of Kurts profile and he forces himself from the couch, the book sliding to the floor in his wake. He rifles through his collection before finding exactly what he needs, a Nina Simone record called Saga of the Good Life and Hard Times. He sets it on the turntable, savouring the crackle of the stylus before making his way to the spare bedroom.

Except when soft rains fall

And drip from leaves then I recall

He sets about methodically dismantling the room. He pulls back the curtains and lets the dull, grey, winter light fill the room. Rain was once a comfort to him, bringing peace and life. He turns toward the bed and briefly shuts his eyes. He can almost see it, feel the contentment he had felt that morning hed first woken up in Kurts arms. Looking back it seems surreal but he cant help the small smile that tugs at his chapped lips. The warmth, turning over and seeing those soft and sleepy azure eyes, his gentle caresses, dwelling on the memory makes him ache in the most bittersweet of ways.

The thrill of being sheltered

In your arms

When he opens his eyes the room seems dank and cold, like Kurts absence has sucked the life from it. He strips the comforter and pillows from the bed and hauls the mattress off until its leaning against the adjacent wall. He dismantles the bed and shoves all of it into the rooms built in closet. The space looks bare now, like a blank canvas. Its almost as if every memory the room had held had disappeared. The graphite lines of heated gasps and light laughter erased from the walls and pencilled over.

Ive forgotten you

Just like I said I would

The spare room gets converted into a studio and Blaine moves on, change spurring him on. Guys ask him out, he dates a few and goes home with even less but nothing ever feels quite right. He has fun and he starts to realise that the world hasnt stopped just because Kurt left his. He relearns himself and discovers things about himself that hed never known. He had been trying to forget because he thought likening the affair to a dream, sweet and fleeting, would make it easier. He had hoped one day that hed wake up and all hed remember was a vague sense of warmth and familiarity.

Or maybe except when I hear your name

Someones laugh thats just the same

He starts to revaluate when the book comes out and suddenly hes surrounded but Kurt again. Everything rushes back, hitting him with the force of a runaway freight train. Maggie tells him that love is never something you should run from, lost or found. It hurts, remembering every detail, but in time he makes peace with it. He remembers Kurt fondly instead of letting sadness and loneliness overwhelm and control him. He comes to the conclusion that he doesnt need his love to thrive and be happy. Not having Kurt is simply like losing the last piece of a puzzle of the Statue of Liberty. You can still see the picture in all its glory, its still magnificent, theres just a piece missing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Soon remembering doesnt hurt and he learns to love himself, missing piece be damned.

What a guy

What a fool am I

To think my aching heart

Could keep the moon

What really hurts, when he truly thinks about it, is the idea that it may have never meant to Kurt what it meant to him. Insecurity still plagues him, the idea hed had at the beginning, that hes mediocre, that Kurt couldnt really care for a guy like Blaine, reared its ugly head on his bad days. The days he had tried to pretend that it was all just a dream come back to haunt him as he realises just how idealistic he had been, how naive he had been to cling to hope that had never really been there.

Whats in store?

Should I phone once more?

Blaine calls him and leaves a long and rambling message that he regrets as soon as he ends the call. He wanted to play it cool but instead his voice betrayed his excitement and anxiety. Its his first attempt at contact since the short note hed sent Kurt almost begging him to stop sending him letters. Hes in a better place now. Now he knows he can live without Kurt but is starting to realise that maybe he doesnt want or have to. With his new found happiness and success theres a new spark of hope. Hope that he can have Kurt in his life, the missing puzzle piece, completing the picture.

I said that I get along without you very well

Of course, I do

He throws himself into preparations for the big exhibition. Finally getting the opportunity to present his art to possible patrons was exhilarating. It reminds him of his dream, his ambitions and his driving force. He dresses to impress for the evening and as he chats amicably with patrons, friends and colleagues he feels overwhelmed by his own accomplishments. The world doesnt stop when he sees him; hes unwittingly prepared for it, or when their hands find each other. As they gaze up at his work, all this time he knew it wasnt goodbye.

Except perhaps in spring

But then I should never

Ever think of spring

"Hello Kurt." He says and the sound of his name feels like home. "Welcome to the NYU Fine Art Spring Exhibition here at the Silver Center." He tries desperately to keep his tone light but his heart hammers loud and fast inside his chest, so loud that he barely registers what hes saying, what Kurt is saying.

"I came to see you."

"I wanted to see you."

Warmth spreads from his chest to his fingertips like pins and needles and he knows he must be blushing.

For that would

Surely break my heart in two

The fact that hes there, their hands joined between them, reaffirms to Blaine that theyre tethered. It assures him that what they had or even have, its real and Kurt feels it too. Hope surges within him as he tugs Kurt by the hand toward the exit but things have changed, Blaine is cautious now, the hopeless romantic less hopeless and more simply hopeful. Hes hopeful that this is a second chance that wont leave him with another broken heart. Still he assures Kurt that words can wait for now, in favour of finally feeling complete, if but for a little while.

I get along without you very well...