It's Better to Burn Out than Fade Away-Kurt Cobain

Chapter 7

November 26, 1990

I knocked on the door and the babysitter opened it up. I grinned as I heard Lorelai shriek. She ran to the door and threw her arms around my legs. I kneeled down and held her in my arms. It was the longest we had been apart and I couldn't bear to be away from her for that long again. 

"Ready to go?" I stood up. 

"Yeah," She grabbed her things and then we both ran to the car. 

I was so excited to be with her that I forgot to tell the babysitter 'thank you'. I didn't care, though. I needed to be with my daughter. 

"Did you have fun?" I asked her as we drove back to our house. 

"Yeah!"

"What'd you do?"

"I don't know."

"How do you not know?!" I chuckled. 

"I just don't know."

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I had finally called Kurt back after putting Lorelai to bed. 

"Hello?" I asked. 

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING WORRIED I WAS?!"

I jumped at his loud voice-it was a different side to him. He was...angry. I had never really seen him angry. "I was busy with Lorelai."

"ALL DAY?!"

"Kurt, I haven't seen her in such a long time."

"You couldn't have taken time out of your fucking day to talk to me?!"

"I'm not going to do this Kurt-you're being so fucking unreasonable," I hung up the phone and sighed. 

What the fuck was his problem? Why was he talking to me like that? I was seeing my daughter-I missed her. I thought that Kurt of all people would understand that. My heart shattered as I realized I had probably lost him. I wanted to grab the phone and call him back, but I knew that was a bad idea. I needed to stop growing so attached to people. 

Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I looked through the peephole, but didn't see anything, so I decided to open up the door and there he stood. 

I was furious. Anger flowed through me and I felt the need to punch him. 

"What are you doing here, Kurt?" I asked him. 

"I'm here to apologize," He explained. "What I did was wrong and I shouldn't  have reacted that way. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I guess. Want to come in?"

He smiled. "That would be great."

We walked inside and then I turned on the T.V. and we sat down on the couch. I wasn't even interested in what was on-I was so focused on Kurt. He drove all the way here to apologize to me. 

I looked at him and just kissed him. I put my hands on the side of his face as he did the same to me. 

His lips were so soft, but he kissed me with so much passion and aggression. I couldn't explain the feeling I got-not even if I wanted to-but the amount of butterflies that filled my stomach was extraordinary. 

I pulled away and smiled. "I forgive you."

"What music do you listen to?"

"Anything, really."

"Sure..."

"I don't really listen to music anymore."

"Why not?"

"Robert," I quietly muttered. "He and I loved music-music was our thing. I mean, God, everything we did, we did with music. We would always sing and dance and smile, but now I can't anymore. Music's kind of ruined for me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This is my decision. Kurt, I have a question."

"Yes?"

There was a pause. "Are you suicidal in any way?"

"No, no, oh God no! Why would you think that?!"

"I'm just making sure-I can't lose anybody else. I know that Dave would never do anything-I don't think that Krist would-"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

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We had hours and hours of just conversation-not even basic conversation, but deep conversation. We talked about what we thought would happen when we died and how we thought we were created and whether God was real or not. Then, we talked about how Robert's death affected me and it really helped. Yes, there was crying, but I needed it. 

"I need to go to the bathroom," He walked up and went into the bathroom. 

I sat there looking in front of me and my eyes widened as I got a good idea. I ran to the other side of the living room and pulled out  my guitar case. I opened it up carefully and took out an acoustic guitar-one that Robert and Dave bought me. 

I hadn't touched it in years. It was very cold and felt brand-new. 

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked. 

I turned around. "Sit down, Kurt."

He sat down as I grabbed a guitar pick. I sat down next to him on the couch and made sure it was in tune. When I strummed the guitar, it was a very sharp noise, so I tuned it by ear-something Dave taught me-and I strummed it one more time. It was in tune. 

I shut my eyes and put my fingers on the strings and as soon as I was about to play, Kurt put his hand on mine. 

"You don't have to do this," He told me. 

"I want to."

I pushed his hand off of mine and started playing the song. 

The pleasure I felt was so unreal. 

The song itself was beautiful-it was my favorite song of all time-but actually being able to produce that song was a different feeling. I forgot the way playing a guitar felt-it was like a drug. Whenever I played it, I felt satisfied and content. 

After I finished playing it, I looked up and Kurt and his mouth was wide open, along with his eyes. 

"What?" I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear after setting my guitar down. 

"'FADE TO BLACK'?!"

"Shh! Lorelai's sleeping!"

"'FADE TO BLACK'?!" He whispered. 

"It's my favorite song."

"That's such a fucking hard song to play!"

"The hammer on-pull offs were a little difficult, but overall, it was easy."

"You are so good. Ruby, that was so beautiful."

"You liked it?"

"Of course I did. You should play more often."

"'Metallica's' my favorite band."

"They're a really good band."

"I know how to play 'Welcome Home', too. And 'One'."

"You'll have to show me again."

"Not now," I put the guitar away and sat back down. "It's getting late."

"Can I just spend the night?"

"Yes."

"Ruby?"

"You're a wonderful guitar player."

We ended that night with a kiss, then fell asleep on the couch.