Before Kurt and Blaine can start their "Being Bobby Brown" marathon the storm erupts. Blaine has picked up Kurt's phone while he was out of the room and sees the texts coming in from Chandler. He confronts Kurt, reading through the flirty missives and tells Kurt this is cheating. Kurt first tries to turn the situation on Blaine for snooping, then points out that Blaine did the same, and worse, with Sebastian. Blaine counters that he didn't like Sebastian, but Kurt clearly likes this guy. Caught, Kurt switches tactics. Chandler makes him feel wanted, he can't remember the last time Blaine complimented him. Blaine shouts that he switched schools for Kurt, he changed his entire life, and in response Kurt airs his frustration with dating "alpha gay" Blaine who everyone loves and who's been snapping up every available solo as far as Gleeks can see. The argument is like every issue of Glee finally laid out on the line, cathartic and necessary to the progress of the show. Blaine keeps calling the texting cheating, and Kurt says it's not, and that he's sorry if it upset him, but it's okay.
"It's not right," huffs Blaine. "But it's okay?" If Blaine's new thing is to start songs by slow-speaking the lines (see "Fighter" two weeks ago) we're sort of behind it. He dedicates "It's Not Right, But It's Okay" to anyone who's ever been cheated on, then morphs into the most spot-on Whitney impression of the whole episode, paying homage with an amazingly faithful interpretation of the classic Whitney video, with the rest of the Glee club (minus Kurt) filling in as the jilted women behind Blaine, who sasses the camera. Every Whitney hand tick, head nod and smirk is embodied. Kurt may be right; it's hard to sit on a stool and play backup to alpha Blaine, but when he owns it, he owns it. The song finishes, and Blaine storms out of the choir room.
Back at home, Kurt is sorting his belongings for his impending New York departure (you have several months Hummel, chill) when Burt comes to talk. He objects to Kurt trashing certain memories, and when Kurt tells him not to get sentimental Burt says they've both been way too casual about Kurt leaving. They've not been as close, failing to uphold their weekly dinner traditions, and Burt admits he's been skipping dinners because he's sad there's not going to be any more dinners eventually. He manages to embrace the change and address it head on, proving once again that Burt Hummel is the best and most sensible man in all of Lima, Ohio. He deserves his plot-hole ridden Senate win. Father and son embrace, the first chords of "I Have Nothing" begin, and for a second you think Kurt will be singing this for his father, but no. As he starts his eyes lock on Blaine and never stray the entire performance, a sequence with zero fantasy elements and all of Kurt's emotion laid bare. It's staged extremely reminiscent of another triumphant Kurt Hummel numbers, "As If We Never Said Goodbye" with the back camera passes and the rapt audience of his peers.
Although we feel both Kurt's self-assuredness and his devotion to his partner, though the delivery, singing, for once, doesn't solve every problem. The boys take to Emma's office for a counseling session where Blaine rolls through a list of problems -- Kurt snaps at waiters and keeps slipping bronzer into his moisturizer and that makes his hands look weird -- until he hits the root of it all. Blaine is sick of them always talking about NYADA and New York. He's been pulling away because he's trying to prepare himself for what it will be like next year without him. "You are the love of my life, Kurt," Blaine shudders. "And I'm pissed off I'm going to have to learn for the next year what being alone is going to be like." Kurt is stricken, and promises Blaine's not going to be alone, or lose him. This, like Emma's declaration that that kids would go to the moon in ten years time for Mr. Schue's wedding, isn't strictly true, but it's what everyone says and what everyone needs to hear on the cusp of such a change. High school fades. Connections that seem stronger than iron rust. High school loves of your life become fond memories. Change is inevitable, but in this perfect moment Kurt and Blaine are everything to each other, and they don't have to pull themselves apart just yet. Maybe ever, but at least for now they're going to let time move on with them intact.
Blaine makes good on alleviating Kurt's insecurities, paying him a compliment on his "Russian czar" cap the next day in the hall as Kurt's phone buzzes in his pocket. "It's not Chandler, I swear!" Kurt frets, and it's not. Blaine is now the one sending saucy texts, and he tries to convince Kurt to blow off Glee so they can have some alone time. "But it's Glee, we only have so many of these left!" Kurt offers, and the whole fandom sobs in frustration. Still, the Mercedes and Artie-led spontaneous group sing to "My Love Is Your Love" is just wonderful enough to make up for the lack of Kurt and Blaine backseat makeouts, and very much reminiscent of the very first episode of the series, as everyone congregates in the theater under Schue watchful and inspired eye. At the end they take down the Whitney shrine and Kurt quietly closes his locker.
Every episode from here on until the finale will probably have this sort of tone of finality, all building up to the biggest page-turn of the series, the first moment of real change for these characters. It's not often you can say that Puck's character delivers the sage and underlying point of the episode, but he gets it most concisely in his little stolen shot glasses bro-toast, "Clocks ticking, time's coming, it's almost time to say adios."
Indeed, sage pool boy, indeed.