Blaine just sits. There’s nothing else he can really do anymore. His skin feels detached from himself, as if it’s a shell with a foot of space left open for him to curl up in and retract from the world as much as possible. This isn’t the first time it had happened: it was weird, just this prevailing feeling of failure as a human being and worthlessness of self. And usually he could talk to Kurt about it, but he’d been busy. Now of course he doesn’t resent Kurt for being successful and busy in New York, but he wishes that they could talk. Blaine didn’t really have anyone to talk to on the level that he could with his boyfriend. He didn’t expect to be able to talk to people on the same level as with his Kurt, but he wishes someone got him sort of the way that Kurt does.

The best he can do is imagine that Kurt is there to hold his hand. Whenever Blaine felt so out of and retracted within his skin, he could reach out and hold Kurt’s hand and he could feel right in his body. Blaine didn’t know how to get out of these slumps without his best friend. Really, he only wants to feel loved.

Blaine sat in the silence for a moment, hearing his heart beat, feeling it in his knees rather than his chest. He’s got his homework stacked on his desk, and as much as he knows he should do it, he just wants to sit in and out of his body and figure out what’s going on. As hyper aware and detached as he feels to his physical body, emotionally, he doesn’t know what he feels. Maybe it’s because I don’t. Is that it? He can’t feel anything because he just doesn’t? As nice as that sounds, with how painful the past month has been, it’s dreadful. He feels like he throwing up even though he hasn’t eaten all day and there’s blood in his mouth from chewing on the side of his mouth. What’s the last thing I ate? Not today, maybe… he trails off in his thought and reaches back in his memory but can’t find anything. It’s just expanses of blankness.

Really, all Blaine knows for certain is that he misses Kurt more than anything, because at least with Kurt, he could feel.

He’s working on his calc homework just to occupy his mind and absent-mindedly starts poking himself with his pencil as he reviews the concept. That feels like something. He scratches at his wrist with his pencil because it aches and scratches terribly. After a few minutes, he realizes he can’t even read whatever’s happening in his notes, he’s just staring at them so he can keep scratching. He takes off his watch and scratches the wrist as well as he can until it’s bright red and he can see the skin starting to peel away. No matter how much he scratches, it itches more. As terrifying as he knows that should be, part of him is relieved because at least now he feels something.