My Heart is Broke-Kurt Cobain

Chapter 78

After putting my hair up in a bun and brushing my teeth, I finally bring myself to walk out of the bedroom. 

Normally I'm not up this early, but I've been awake for the past two hours--since five in the morning--and I'm ready to eat something and get my mind off of what happened between Kurt and I. 

I shake my head, removing the thought. Instead, I grab some toast from the cupboard, place it in the toaster and watch it toast as I stare at it with nothing else to do.

My mind still continues to wander back to Kurt no matter how much I want it to. There are so many different places he could've gone to and I would have no idea. He took his car and left; I checked this morning by looking out my window and into the parking lot. 

When the toast shoots up, I unplug the toaster and set down the single piece of bread onto a plate I have. I put butter on it, then eat it. 

After I finish, I toss the plate in the sink and remember suddenly how I treated Dave and Krist last night. I internally slap myself, angry that I allowed myself to get that overwhelmed and hurt/treat them like that. 

All they were trying to do was help me and that is how I repaid them. 

Instead of going to my bedroom to call them and apologize, I decide to go to the living room and use that phone. As I turn the corner and see the couch, I let out a yelp as I see a pair of legs across the cushions. 

My expression softens as I recognize those legs. I continue to walk further and see Kurt laying down on the couch, his head resting on a pillow and he's laying with no blanket. 

I immediately feel bad, wondering how long he's been there for. I grab a blanket and drape it across him, then look down at the floor and see Frances' carseat empty. She must be in her bedroom sleeping. 

Despite how mad I am at Kurt, I couldn't be happier to see him laying down on the couch. I'm thankful that he's not anywhere else right now. 

Love makes you do terrible things. I'm forgiving him for what he did, which is terrible. After how much he hurt me, I'm still not as upset with him for what he did.

Trying not to think too much about it, I grab the phone resting on the table and dial Krist's number, hoping that he'll answer soon, despite how early it is. 

When the line still continues to ring after a couple seconds, I realize that he's not going to be answering anytime soon. 

 My eyes make their way back to Kurt who's softly sleeping. His hands are propped beneath his head like a little girl taking a nap. 

I don't know how I didn't see it sooner, how he was obviously really upset and was asking for help without actually asking for it. 

Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I had something to do with why he did it. Maybe if I did something different, none of this would've happened. 

He and I could be sleeping in the same bed right now without any conflict. 

Everything feels hopeless. I don't know what to do. No matter what, we always go back to the same dark spot that we were in before. We always argue and fight. One of us ends up leaving for  short amount of time, then we come back, make up, and the cycle repeats again. 

It's exhausting and unhealthy. We shouldn't be like this. 

A knock on the door interrupts me. I go up to answer it, wrapping my robe around my body, then unlock the door and see two little girls with a middle-aged woman behind her, who I assume to be their mother. 

"Good morning!" One of the little girls exclaims. "My name is--"

I quickly remember that Kurt is asleep on the couch, so to not wake him up, I force myself outside, bumping into one of the girls, and shut the door behind me. "Sorry, my fiancée is sleeping and I don't want to wake him up."