Kurt settled into his bed, legs crossed and laptop on his lap. He beamed down to his boyfriend on his screen who beamed back.

“Well, hello, Mr. Student Body President,” Kurt said in a cheery tone.

Blaine smiled wider at him. “Oh, you heard?”

“Yes, I heard!” Kurt exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you.” Blaine’s chest swelled at Kurt’s praise.

He looked down at his lap and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "I tried to call you. Well, I did call you. But you didn't--you didn't pick up,” Blaine mumbled.

"I was busy, Blaine.” Blaine’s eyes shifted back up to the screen as Kurt continued in an excited voice: “Isabelle and I went to this wonderful restaurant with some of her friends. And, oh my god, one of them had a grandaunt who worked for Anna Wintour's father. Can you believe that?"

Blaine gave him a small smile. "That's—that’s great."

"It is! That's like six degrees of separation. I have a sort of connection to Anna Wintour through a friend's friend's grandaunt. How amazing is that?"

"You're also working for the online site of her magazine; that's a connection there,” Blaine pointed out.

"Yes, of course. How can I forget about that? So,” Kurt brought his laptop a little closer and grinned at his boyfriend. “How are you?"

"I'm-I'm fine," Blaine said, hoping Kurt could hear just how not fine he really was.

"That's great!” Kurt said. He sighed. “I miss Lima so much. I was just thinking about my dad this morning when Isabelle was telling me about her life in Columbus. And McKinley too! I miss McKinley and I didn’t even think I would miss it this much."

"And me?" Blaine asked, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate to Kurt as he did to himself.

Kurt tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "Of course I miss you. But I get to see you from time to time. When was the last time I saw the choir room or Mr. Shuester?"

"Yeah..."

Kurt glanced at the time on his screen and frowned a little to himself. "Rachel is supposed to be here soon,” he said more to himself than to Blaine. He glanced back up at his boyfriend’s face and explained. “We're having a movie night with pizza and ice cream. She called that she would be coming home a while ago, but she did say something about bumping into Dean."

Blaine shifted uncomfortably on his bed. "Kurt, can I...can I talk to you about something?" he asked.

"Of course, honey. What do you want to talk about?"

Blaine tried not to look into Kurt’s smiling face as he spoke. "Um--us. I want to talk about us,” he told Kurt.

Kurt paused. "What about us?"

There was no point in beating around the bush, so Blaine decided to just come out and say it. "I'm lonely," he confessed. "I miss you so much. Every single second of the day I'm thinking about you and wondering what you're doing and what you're wearing and who you're meeting. Going from seeing you every single day to not seeing you in person anymore just...it just hurts."

"Blaine, in less than a year you'll be in New York and--"

"But what if you get bored of me?" Blaine blurted out.

Kurt blinked at the screen. "How could I ever get bored of you?"

"Look at you, Kurt. You're hanging out with fashion editors and going to fancy restaurants and drinking Starbucks like it's water. You're a New Yorker now. What if...what if I move to New York and I'm too Lima for you?"

"Are you forgetting I'm from Lima too?"

"Yeah, but you never really belonged. You were always too big for our little town."

"Lima isn't little, Blaine," Kurt said pointedly.

"That's not the point. You're-you're the love of my life, Kurt. I said it before and I'll say it again. But I'm starting to think..." Blaine paused and took a deep breath. "I'm starting to think that soon I won't be the love of yours."

There was a stunned silence as Kurt stared at the computer in his lap.

"What? What could make you possibly think I would ever stop loving you?” Kurt asked, his eyes narrowing to slits as he glared at his boyfriend. “Don't I tell you I love you after every single conversation we have? Haven't I showed you how I feel about you?"

"It's not that...it's just...it's hard, Kurt. This--us--it's too hard. I can't do it anymore."

"You can't do it anymore," Kurt repeated, his heart beating hard in his chest. "What are you trying to say?"

"I think we should--I think we should break up."

Kurt closed his eyes and said in a measured voice. "Do you think that would make everything easier then? You want to break up with me because I'm a little busy? Why? So you can date someone in Lima who will be around you whenever you want?" Kurt's eyes flew open, already red and brimming with tears. "Because if I remember correctly, you were the one who told me to come to New York. You were the one who said I should live my dream."

The words sliced through Blaine like a blade. It was true. He was the one who told Kurt to go. He looked around his bedroom until his eyes fell on the picture of him and Kurt together that used to hang in the door of his locker, now propped up on his nightstand.

Blaine turned back to the computer. "Now I'm the one that's letting you go. I can't do this anymore, Kurt. It just--it just hurts too much."

"It's hurting me more!" Kurt snapped, anger surging through his veins. Tears cascaded down his face as he gripped the sides of his laptop.

"Kurt,” Blaine started.

"No!" Kurt yelled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the computer harder, wishing it was Blaine's skin he was touching; wishing it was Blaine's body he was holding onto with all his might, refusing to let go. Wishing there wasn't a computer screen and hundreds of miles between them.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said in a small voice.

"You know what you are, Blaine? You're selfish,” Kurt said bitingly. “You think this is all about you. It's hurting you too much. You can't take it anymore. You're feeling lonely. What about me? You think I'm not lonely here in a new city with only a girl I used to hate my first couple of years in high school to keep me company and who spends all her time with her hot new friend? You think I don't think about you whenever I see a kid in a bowtie or a sweatervest at the display window at Brooks Brothers? You think it doesn't hurt me when I'm in bed at night, staring at pictures of us together on my phone, pretending my pillow is you as I cuddle around it, but it's nothing like you because it doesn't have your smell or your warmth. God, Blaine, nothing in New York can make me as happy as you can.” Kurt’s voice cracked as tears continuously streamed down his face.

Kurt’s words stung and Blaine’s stomach twisted painfully. He swallowed down a lump forming in his throat and blinked, causing a few tears to slide down his face. Blaine didn't think it would be this hard. Some foolish part of him even thought this was what Kurt wanted.

"Kurt, I just can't," Blaine said, sniffing as a tear slid down his nose.

Kurt shook his head at the screen, his face completely pink and covered with tears now. "I hope you're happy now, Blaine," he said. "I really do."

Kurt clicked the X on their chat window. The connection cut and their conversation was over. Blaine closed his laptop and placed it on his bedside table, wiping a few tears making their way past his chin and toward his neck. He slid his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. Blaine rested his head on his knees, closed his eyes, and sobbed.