The Sun is Gone

Memories

Liz's POV

The rest of the time in Paris passed by less eventfully. Kurt had to move on to the next location for his tour, and I didn't follow. Thankfully, neither did Courtney. She had obligations with her own band to get back to. I didn't have to interact with her or see her again after that one night, thank God.
Kurt promised me he was going to try to do better with using drugs. I begged and begged him to stop his tour and go to rehab, but there was no talking him into it. He still didn't think his problem was that bad, and he didn't want the media to know. He claimed he was going to slowly wean himself off of the heroin. I doubted this plan would work, but short of exposing his drug habit myself to get him help, I didn't know what to do.
And so I left, after speaking to Dave and asking him to keep an eye on Kurt for me. He promised he would do his best.
I did some tourist things for the rest of my week in Paris. I went for a bunch of sightseeing and food tasting in tiny cafes. I went to the Louvre and the Musee D'Orsay, both of which I had always dreamt of seeing. I saw Norte Dame Cathedral and the Arch de Triomphe. I went out and toured Versailles. But my mind was never far from Kurt.
I arrived home safely, to the dreary Seattle rain, and my heart felt empty. Kurt still had a few weeks of touring left. I took a taxi home from the airport since Craig was busy with work. I dragged my gigantic luggage into my bedroom, ready to unpack. I got started putting things away.
I noticed that my bottom dresser draw was slightly ajar. I didn't remember leaving it that way. My heart started to race as I realized what was stored in that drawer, and what Craig might have seen. I pulled the drawer open and pushed aside the clothes,  uncovering an old tattered shoebox that I lifted out gingerly. I sat it down on my bed, opening the lid. Inside were photos of me and Kurt, the notes and trinkets he had given me over the years. Underneath all of that were photos of me and Danny, so many years ago, smiling and happy. I hardly recognized myself. And there was Danny's suicide note that I hadn't read since back before I ever met Kurt.
Craig knew nothing of the existence of this box or its contents—at least I thought so. But I was worried he had found it while I was gone. It wasn't like Craig to rummage through my things. Maybe I had just left my drawer ajar without realizing. I had been hurriedly packing. Nothing was missing or rearranged in the box. I was probably overreacting, thinking that Craig had seen it.
I knew I should put the box back, and not engage in looking at its contents. But there was an old photo of me and Kurt, that I recalled Shelli snapping when we still lived with her and Krist back in Aberdeen, when Kurt and I had first fallen in love. We were both so young, grinning. Kurt looked so healthy. I felt tears prick my eyes.
We had been so in love with one another. We were so oblivious to all the pain that was going to follow. Our love was honest and pure. But now I had distorted that love into something warped and damaged. I had sent Kurt away. And then I had kept him secret; caused him so much pain inside. Now he was using drugs and seeing someone else, and we had been sneaking around together for far too long. I worried I had done irreparable damage to both of us; to our relationship.
How did something so wonderful go so frighteningly wrong? It all seemed unfathomable—from Kurt's skyrocket to fame, to his drug use, to my chance run-in with him in Seattle back when I still lived in San Francisco. I should have let him go that day. I selfishly led him on, cheating on Craig with him—something I never thought I'd do. But now I'd let it become normal as anything. And it was all because I was a coward. Because I couldn't bring myself to let anyone know about my relationship with Kurt. It was a problem that had increased tenfold since he was extraordinarily famous. And so I stayed with Craig because I was afraid of being alone. I disgusted myself.
Kurt and I were both good people. I knew we had been at one time, at least. But I didn't feel like we were one bit anymore. I knew the smart thing to do was probably to let him go—let him be with Courtney, acknowledging that I couldn't save him from himself. And I should just marry Craig and live out my life pretending I was happy. But I never did the smart thing.
I tucked the shoebox of memories back into the drawer, hidden as deeply as they were hidden inside my heart. I checked the time. It was still late afternoon in Kurt's time zone. I decided to call and let him know I was home.
"Hello?" Kurt answered quickly.
"Hi," I replied.
"Hey, sweetheart. Are you home?"
"Yeah, I just got here a little bit ago. How are you?"
"I'm pretty good, Liz. Guess what?"
"What?" I asked.
"We're coming home sooner than I expected."
"What? Really?" I exclaimed. "That's great, Kurt!"
"Yeah. At the end of this week, actually. I can't wait, Liz. I'm so tired. I have no right to bitch about all of this. But it's so much work, constantly. But now, I'll be back with you soon. And I know it will be easier for me not to use when I have you."
"I hope so, Kurt. I wish you'd get help."
"Let me try on my own first, Liz."
"Okay," I agreed, not wanting to argue.
"Look, I gotta go. I'll see you very soon, sweetheart."
"Okay. I love you, Kurt."
"I love you too. Bye."
"Bye."
I was pleased Kurt was coming home sooner. I would feel better with him finally close to me for a while. I needed to try to keep him safe from himself. I finally felt like there might be some hope for us.