My missing puzzlepiece

”Is it because I don’t look like my profile picture?” A confused look strikes the boy’s face and Blaine groans and buries his head in his hands – feeling the despair seek into his pores as he realizes what he has done. Everything in the room is too loud and too bright, and everything screams _cheater_.
He can’t stand this; the softness of the pillows, the creaks of the mattress as he moves his head from this hands and pushes them through his hair and the breathing from the boy behind his back.
Furious at himself he pushes his shirt on as fast as he can; as if it is burning his skin if it stays half-on very much longer. He has no idea why he decided to wear it and maybe he should have known better. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to make the best decisions in the egg-colored-black-striped shirt he also wore to Rachel’s party, back when everything seemed so complicated but looking back on it, more simple. Back when he and Kurt were best friends. Back when he started to realize that maybe – maybe – Kurt could be something more than just a best friend with a fantastic taste for fashion and whatnot. But most importantly, back when Kurt didn’t ignore him and let Blaine feel like the loneliest person in the world - too absorbed in his new internship at Vogue.
Since Kurt left there hadn’t been a day where Blaine didn’t imagine Kurt sitting somewhere in New York, sipping expensive coffee and talking to a boy much more gorgeous and perfect than he could ever be. Even though he knew his mind just played him a trick, he recently had found himself not being able to shake the images off him.
They showed up everywhere and at every hour. Even in his dreams. Kurt walking hand in hand with someone, scarf flowing in the wind and eyes crinkled, as he so often did when something really amused him.
The more and more non frequent Skype dates didn’t prevent them from showing up either, and as they were watching one of the billion films Blaine owned, he couldn’t help but get distracted and let his mind wander off to much non pleasant things he were too afraid to confront Kurt with.
And now he’s here. In the worst situation possible, and he hates himself.
“I have to go.” It sounds like a plea, and Eli gives him a confused look.
“I know it’s because of the profile picture, Blaine.” A sad smile shows up in his face, and Blaine looks away.
He has been hurting way too many people in his short life. When is ‘enough’ enough? When does he learn of his mistakes?
Blaine doesn’t answer Eli and though all he wants is just to lay on the ground in a pile of his own mess and cry everything out, he manages to get out of the house, down to his car and out on the highway. It’s when he turns the radio on and it starts playing ‘Perfect’ by Pink everything cracks and he feels the weight of what he has done on his shoulders. Not just the guilt hanging over his head as he felt in Eli’s bedroom; now it’s thousand times worse; a small voice (Kurt’s?) accusing him of what he has done and making it hard to get air.
Fingers clench the steering wheel and his breath comes out in rapid puffs. The curls in the nape starts to undone and the world is shattering into tiny pieces he won’t ever be able to pick up and make right again. Everything will never be as it used to be. And it’s his fault. He quickly turns off the radio.
He has to pull off the road and when the car stops humming and the light goes off he sees, that the sun has begun to go down –just like his heart.
Blaine feels like he has been stabbed by thousand of thousands knives that will never let him go; he feels like he’s drowning and can’t find the strength to ever pull himself up again.
It begins to rain outside; heavy drops falling from the sky making their way down his car’s windows as if it’s the heaven crying for him. No. Not him. For Kurt. For their relationship. For the things he now knows he has lost and will never get again.
Blaine remembers his dad once telling him, that sometimes life goes your way, and sometime it doesn’t. Sometimes there’s obstacles on the road and you have to work extra hard. But what if these obstacles are you? Is there a way to get over yourself – and is it even possible to forgive yourself for something you know you shouldn’t have done?
Blaine just wants to sleep and as his head falls down on the steering wheel, sending cold chills through his spine, it dawns upon him: He has to tell Kurt. Let him know what he did. He won’t be able to live with himself and his actions otherwise.
Telling each other everything has always been one of the strengths in their relationships and something that they both found very important; even if it was something awkward or it hurt like hell. It had to get out.
Filled with determination Blaine starts the engine of the car and feels the warmth of the motor running, slowly seeking into his body, making him sure that he has made the right decision.
As he drives through the rain lost in his own thoughts only disturbed by the occasional whisks of the wipers on the window, he plans everything in his head.
He has to look forward. He has to make this okay again. If not for himself, but for Kurt. That’s what he keeps telling himself as he park the car in the driveway in front of his house; when he goes upstairs to his room; when he pushes the pile of unwashed clothes away from his desk chair; but most importantly – when he turns on his computer and books a flight to New York next week.
It’s now or never.
That night Blaine cries himself to sleep, knowing that his once lost puzzle piece is missing once again.