(A/N): Okay, so, I'm a cheater! I'm totally stealing the basic idea for this story from this fabulous Teen Titans fic I read forever ago. Hehe, bet you never pegged me to be into that kind of thing, eh? Alrighty, by the time I upload the next chapter - there will be more - I'll have the name of the author who wrote that other story, so that I can give them full credit for the basic idea! Anyway, lots of unrequited crap; in letter form now! I don't think there's any language, so it's rated K. Read, review, ENJOY!

Disclaimer: On top of spaghetti, all covered in cheese, there lay my poor meatball, until somebody sneezed! It rolled onto the table and onto the floor, and then my poor meatball, DIDN'T OWN GLEE!

Dear Blaine,

First off, how are you? I feel like it's been ages since I last saw you – though it's really only been since the beginning of Spring Break. I hope that you've been well and had fun; I sure know that I have! The New Directions are so much fun to be around, and I miss them a lot, but, when I'm here in Lima… I feel like something's missing.

Obviously, that something is you. Just knowing that I'm stuck here in Ohio, while you're off in Paris with your family… it hurts. Not so much the fact that you're so much wealthier, more the fact that we're so far away. It hurts when I'm not around you (I know it's a cliché, but it's true), and I just can't wait to see you again at Dalton!

Of course, when we meet up, share a brief hug and a few greetings, you won't know that I've missed you as terribly as I have. I really try to just shrug it off – to ignore how much I care for you – but it never works. Ignoring your feelings is such a terrible thing. It hurts even more than being apart. But I know that you wouldn't want to pursue a relationship with me; I'm damaged goods.

You were there as support for me at my absolute worst time. You've seen me at my most vulnerable, most heartbroken place. It bonded us closer, I'd like to think. And I'm sure that you can read me like an open book. You always know when I'm missing Mercedes, or if I'm worried about my dad; it's pretty amazing that you haven't caught on to the fact that I'm hopelessly in love with you…

Oh, did I mention that? Yes, well, I suppose it had become apparent by now… but you may have been so clueless as to have not caught on until I said it outright.

Anyway, I just feel like I've let you in so much; I've let you come in when things were broken, and let you fix them back up a bit. But… I know literally nothing about you. We're always talking about me! My struggles, my feelings, my adjusting to Dalton, my happy memories at McKinley… I've had enough!

I'm not Rachel Berry; I know that the world doesn't revolve around me! I can't tell whether you honestly think that I'm so self-obsessed, or whether you're just trying to stay away from saying anything about yourself! I don't even know your parents' names! I have no idea where you live – even though you've been to my house a dozen times!

I know nothing about you, and you're making absolutely no effort to change that fact. Sometimes, that is what hurts the most. It hurts that you must not trust me enough to tell me these things. You could have a boyfriend, and I wouldn't even know about him! That would explain it; why you won't tell me about your home life, why I can never visit you over break, why I know absolutely nothing about you!

It would also make sense because you're so perfect. You're adorable, you're talented, you're sweet, smart and dedicated – not to mention outrageously attractive – and gay. If you met another, hot and sweet gay guy in Lima, Ohio, Gaga knows that he would have been on you like white on rice.

And it's okay. I'm fine with you having a boyfriend, if only you'd just tell me about it! I could help you plan outfits for your date! I could be there for you during off-again on-again relationship – and not to jump your bones while you're single! I could be there for you, because – even though it would kill me inside – I care about you being happy more than I care about being with you.

I mean, obviously I'd prefer to be the one to make you happy, but I care enough to want you to be happy without me. It's probably better for you anyway; I'm not a good choice. I had my first kiss with a girl – a sweet girl who's dumb as rocks – and my first boy kiss was stolen by some meaty Neanderthal. I'm sure that you can see what a terrible choice I am; the only people that have ever wanted me are complete creepers. How could you ever date – or be happy with – someone like me?

I feel so worthless. I'm getting down on myself so hard. It's really all your fault. If you wouldn't keep on ignoring my pleas for you to just open up to me, I would feel like I'm worth something. I would feel like at least you could trust me, if nothing more!

I really, really love you. And it's hurting me too bad to keep it up. I've been trying to stop; I really have. It's just… it's really hard. How can I – a single, gay male – willingly get over the only other single (as far as I'm aware), gay male in Lima? It's not just because you're the only gay guy; it's really not. That's just some of the reasoning in my head as to why I can't just get over you already! It probably actually has nothing to do with that; I'm just making excuses for my pathetic failure to move on.

If I ever do move on (not likely), a part of me will always wonder what would have happened if I told you. I'll always wonder, but I'll never have the courage to actually do it. It would just kill me if I lost a friend like you due to my unrequited crush. It just wouldn't be worth it.

So, I'm just going to keep on walking past you, pretending that it doesn't tear me up inside. I'm never going to tell you what I had the courage to tell you in this letter. You're never going to get this letter, either. It will stay safely tucked away in my diary – just like the millions of others.

It's really hard having a secret, burning crush, okay? I'm actually pretty surprised that you haven't figured it out – even with you being… well… you. You will openly tell me how much you missed me, how much it kills you to see me hurting (but you're saying it all platonically, I'm sure). I just can't even tell you that I missed you, for fear that you'll figure it out.

I'm pathetic. Anyway, I guess I'll be seeing you at the end of spring break! I'm sending lots of (painful) love your way!

With so much love,

Kurt Hummel

(A/N): Aaaaand? Was is good? Was it bad? Was it great? Was it terrible? Please, be honest and leave me a REVIEW to tell me what you thought!

Reviews help me pay for the pair of Neon Pink Wayfarers I'm saving up for... (not really) =D *Lesser-Than Three*