The memories from the bus felt distant and indifferent by now. My head was throbbing with unbearable pain, so it didn't take a genius to figure out what happend shortly before falling asleep in the aging nighthours. "Kurt.. are you awake?"
"I have been for three hours." He answered before throwing his arm around me. "You wanna get some coffee babe?"
"That sounds great..." I admitted. "My head is pounding." I felt so ashamed of myself. Just when I thought that I had the strength to give up drinking, I found myself back at sqaure one. There's no worse time to relapse... with Kurt and I trying to have that baby. "Maybe I should take a shower first. I smell like stale boruban whisky."
"Hey wait um.." Kurt began as I stood up off the bed. "Maybe we should talk first."
"What's there to talk about? Your physco ex showed up, I drank a whole bottle of vodkla like old times and now.. now there's no way we can have that baby. I just can't handle anything without getting all fucked up. That all you wanted to talk about?" I let out a frustrated sigh before making my way to the hotel bathroom.
He followed close behind me, shaking his head slightly. "You're awfully hard on yourself."
"You're one to talk." I remarked as I began to unbutton my shirt. "You've never been mr positve."
"True." He shurgged. "But it all seriousness, I'm worried about you. I hate seeing the woman I love like this." He stroked my cheek with his thumb.
"I'm gonna be fine. Time heals all wounds I suppose." I reasoned, trying my best to convince myself of this.
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Where Did You Sleep Last Night? || Kurt Cobain
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