"Yeah," Puck replied softly. "It's bulimia... He's had it since high school, and he was doing a lot better until some dudes started acting like assholes and making him feel like crap about himself. B, you're not stupid. Kurt's been practicing hiding this from people since he was 15, B. Look... People who are sick sometimes say things they don't mean, and I don't believe... Not even for a minute... that Kurt doesn't want you." This was a fucking mess. How was he supposed to convince Blaine of this? And in the long run, did it even matter whether or not Kurt wanted him if he wasn't going to let him in? "He's scared, B. He's fucking terrified that he's not good enough for you. Or anybody for that matter."

"I don't know, Blaine," he admitted, shaking his head with sadness, This was a fucking mess, and as Puck met his best friend's gaze solemnly, it felt like a knife was being twisted in his chest. "Listen, dude... I know you wanna help him. And maybe that'll end up being a good thing in the end, but... Right now, I think you need to maybe talk to Quinn and Mercedes. Not right this minute, but soon. They're the ones who know this thing... Way better than either of us. They've been dealing with it for years. They might have some... I don't know, some idea as to what we can do."