YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT // Kurt Cobain

Chapter 25

Los Angeles, CA

March 20, 1994

I woke up early, very uncommon for me. I looked to my left to see Thomas zonked out. I crept out of bed, wearing only Thomas' very distressed-looking Led Zeppelin tee shirt and fuzzy socks. I walked into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee and turned the TV on, lowering the volume so I wouldn't wake my boyfriend.

"--The latest gossip on punk rock couple Kurt and Courtney. It is rumored that their relationship is over, following an anonymous report of Kurt Cobain and Erin Murbach of the band Family Drama sneaking away into a Beverly Hills hotel." Well, looks like that girl wasn't going to have her college paid for after all.

"Allegedly, Kurt served Courtney with divorce papers last week, but isn't this all a bit too soon, especially following Kurt's overdose in Italy? What do you think, Karen?"

"Well Lisa, I definitely think it's a lot to process, but what I'm concerned about is Cobain's daughter, Frances. This divorce will definitely have an impact on her." And you think I don't know that, Karen? Jesus! That's what I had been saying to Kurt ever since this started!

"You're absolutely right. And now you, the audience, get to call in and tell us your opinion on this... Family Drama! Get it?! Stay tuned for the next call-in segment--"

I turned the TV off, putting my head in my hands. This was a hot mess. And Courtney most definitely knew about the other night at the London West Hollywood Hotel. I sat back on the couch, holding my coffee with both of my shaking hands, raising the mug to my mouth to try and forget.

Thomas came out of our bedroom, rubbing his eyes and checking his watch. "Girl! It's seven in the morning!" he stated, walking over to me and sitting next to me, taking my coffee and drinking it.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep," I told him, taking my coffee back as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. I leaned my head on his chest and the next thing I knew, I was sobbing.

"Woah, woah, E, what's the matter? Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I tried to collect myself, but the tears kept coming, "I don't know why this is happening, I'm fine."

"Well, you're obviously not fine, maybe it's your subconscious. Do you need a meeting? Did something happen in Seattle?"

I almost froze, but caught myself just in time. I couldn't blow my cover. "No, I'm fine, I don't need a meeting. Nothing happened in Seattle. I really don't know what's going on," I said, wiping my eyes, which were still blurry from crying. Thomas pulled me close again, running his hand through my hair as if it were second nature.

I knew why this was happening-- this was all catching up with me. I couldn't handle it. I absolutely could not handle this anymore. That news broadcast sent me over the edge.

"I hate to do this to you, since I don't want to leave you alone like this, but I have to go to work, babe," Thomas told me, and I nodded in understanding. "Don't let me hold you back from your life," I replied, "I'll be just fine."

"You know my work number if you need absolutely anything at all," Thomas reminded me, walking into our room to get ready for work, which meant throwing on a tee shirt and jeans and driving to the record store a few miles away.

A few minutes later, he walked back out with his keys, leaned over the back of the couch to kiss the top of my head, and walked out the door, locking it behind him. I took a sip of my coffee, only to realize that it was gone. Thomas drank the rest of it.

I pulled myself off the couch and poured myself another mug. As soon as I brought my mug to my lips, the phone rang. Two scenarios ran through my head-- Kurt was calling me to freak out about Courtney, or Courtney was calling me to freak out about Kurt. I picked the phone up and answered.

"Hello?"

"Shabbat shalom, Murbitch. Living up to your name. I knew you were behind this."

I gulped. "Courtney, I really don't need this right now--"

"Yeah, should've thought about that before fucking my husband!"

I stayed silent. Sounded about right.

Courtney resumed talking. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "In Italy, he took 50 pills. He probably forgot how many he took. But there was a definite suicidal urge. And it's because you won't get out of his goddamn head."

I began to laugh out of utter disbelief. "So you mean to tell me that I'm the reason why Kurt made the decision to take those pills? I was across the world and hadn't spoken to Kurt in years! Where were you? Who's to say you weren't a contributing factor?"

"Because when he was in the ambulance going in and out of consciousness, all he seemed to be able to say was 'Erin'! And, obviously, you show up at my house unannounced because why the fuck not?! You've become a motherfucking household name!"

I took a deep breath, thinking about what to say next. That was something I had never been informed of. Of course it had to come from the mouth of Courtney Love.

"I'm sorry. I really don't know what to say."

Courtney ignored me, going on. "I knew he cheated on me with you that night, you whore. You couldn't stand the fact that he chose me over you, so you had to take advantage of him right after a fucking suicide attempt and rub it in my face. So get the fuck out of his life, or I'll make sure you're forcibly removed."

I heard her slam the phone down multiple times, each hang-up attempt incredibly unsuccessful. A few seconds later I heard her stomping away, Frances crying in the background. I hung up, putting the receiver back on the wall.

I slid down the wall onto the floor, my back supported by the wall, but nonetheless I felt weaker than ever. Who the hell was I to even think I had a chance with Kurt? He loved me, sure, but Courtney was a powerful, hateful, evil bitch who would do anything to see me go down.

I couldn't do this. At least not sober.

I hauled myself up off the floor, going into the bedroom and into my suitcase in the closet, pulling out a few blunts I had left over from the Great Mental Escape. I lit one, inhaling and letting the smoke invade my lungs. That was better.

I walked around the apartment, smoking through the joint faster than you could say "Should've thought about that before fucking my husband." I was going to need a whole lot more of this stuff to forget what had just happened.

There was a knock on the door, and I tiptoed over to the peephole in the door, looking out to see a small parcel on our doormat. I cautiously opened the door, making sure not to let the scent of weed escape the apartment too quickly, and grabbed the parcel, slamming the door behind me.

I looked at the sender's name and address and almost dropped the package. It was from Kurt. I laughed out loud at the timing of these circumstances. Everything was happening all at once. Emotional breakdown in front of Thomas, phone call from Courtney, package from Kurt... life was hitting me from all angles today.

I opened the package to pull out a cassette tape. I examined it, seeing "Love, Kurdt" on the back side of the tape. I couldn't bear to look at it. I marched over to the couch and stuffed the tape between two of the cushions, and then marched back into the kitchen to grab my keys.

Within the next hour, I had walked down to the liquor store and bought myself a variety of alcohol: vodka, whiskey, and tequila. I was kissing my sobriety goodbye.