Subject: re: friendly reminder
I see the lost art of emailing isn’t all that lost on *you*. Good for them email companies, I guess. Even though I’m not sure you should keep it up. You’re lucky I’ve been expecting email from one of my professors at NYADA or otherwise I wouldn’t even check this place. (You should have just called me, silly, there’s nothing wrong with discussing Brody’s inability to learn that everything has its place in my kitchen – including him.)
You’re right, I was rolling my eyes a lot while reading those lines. You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you. Kind of presumptuous, too, comparing us to Harry and Sally – a low blow, by the way, you know I have a soft spot for Billy Crystal.
I did love spending time with you, there’s no point in denying that. It’s not like you weren’t able to tell (along with the 50 elderly people walking by the Prius in which we were groping each other’s butts). It’s also not a secret that I miss you every day up here in mighty Bushwick. Sometimes I miss you so much I open the Blaine file I carefully *stored away* deep into the midst of my computer after we broke up and just talk to your pictures (it’s surprisingly easy to tell you stuff when you’re just a bunch of pixels).
As much as I’d like to dismiss everything that happened between us at the wedding… I can’t. You’re my anchor too, you know. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself to get out there and try new things, my thoughts always go back to you, eventually. It’s almost infuriating. It’s like I’m a boat and I’m perfectly happy ploughing the waves, la la la, but I only ever feel *right* when I get back to the harbor, which is where you are. (Please, don’t make bad sailor jokes when we next speak to each other.)
But it’s not that simple. Tina basically told me that I wasn’t being fair to you, flying back and forth all the time, leaving you hanging and leading you on… and that’s what I’ve been trying to avoid.
I’m a bit confused right now, you see.
And it doesn’t matter how well your cheek fits against the curve of my neck or how fricking good your splayed fingers feel on my back. It doesn’t matter that I couldn’t feel my toes properly for hours after we left the hotel room or that I could still feel your fingers *there* for even longer than that. Like I said, it was a lot of fun. (But then being with you always is, Blaine.)
Could we be just us, for a while? Just Kurt and Blaine, no labels. I’m not sure I know what to do right now expect for keep going for coffee with Adam and keep thinking about you. Maybe we could catch a movie over Skype again (I haven’t seen Moulin Rouge in ages and I feel like looking at Ewan McGregor’s flawless face.).
Let me know when you’re free for some synchronized popcorn eating, yeah?
Thinking of you, always,
PS. Speaking of pictures, I actually don’t mind facing your walls at all. Google says looking at blue colour should bring you feelings of calmness and serenity. I could use some of that.