My Heart is Broke-Kurt Cobain

Chapter 39

Waking up has always been a problem for me, especially when I used to live with my father. I would dread waking up and having to endure the pain that he would inflict upon me. 

Recently, I enjoyed waking up. Getting to live my life and being with Kurt has made me enjoy waking up. I look forward to the time that we spend together. 

But today is one of the days where I dread waking up. I don't want to get out of bed and get ready. I don't want to have to face what happened yesterday. 

I walk out of the bathroom and join Krist and Shelli at the kitchen table. 

"Kaitlyn," Shelli sighs and pats the empty seat next to her, letting me know that I can sit there. 

I take a seat next to her and rub my eyes, not wanting to think about what happened yesterday, but that's all that I can think about. 

Kurt has heroin and he's using it. 

Krist knew about it, but he didn't tell me. 

With the way that things are going, Shelli may as well be pregnant. 

"I'm sorry," Krist apologizes immediately. "I didn't think that he was still doing that shit."

I want to understand why Krist seems so regretful. I don't understand what makes heroin so terrible. "Why is heroin so bad?"

"What do you mean?" His nose scrunches up. 

"I don't really know what heroin is. I mean, I know that it's a drug and that you poke a needle in your body and use it, but that's all. What makes it so bad?"

He leans forward. "It's highly addictive, first of all. It makes you feel like you're on Cloud Nine. You literally don't feel anything...the feeling is indescribable. The problem is the aftermath. You feel like shit afterward. You feel sick. That just makes you want to do it more and more."

My brain tries to comprehend what just came out of my mouth. 

That's what my boyfriend's been doing?

How long has he been doing this for?

I feel like such a terrible girlfriend for not noticing this sooner. There probably have been so many signs that I probably was too ignorant to even notice. 

I try to think about anything that could've pointed to him using, but I can't think of any. 

I feel like such an idiot. I internally slap myself repeatedly, hating myself for what he has come to. He's under so much pain and I haven't even noticed it. 

Poor Kurt. He's probably been calling out for my help for so long. 

"What do we do now?" I ask them. 

"That's up to him," Krist says. 

I roll my eyes. "You're joking, right?"

"Why would I be joking?"

"He's not going to stop, Krist. The only reason why he's not doing it is because we have his fucking box of his shit that he uses!" I slam my hands down onto the table, unable to control my anger. 

The fact that Kurt has even thought about doing this makes my heart break. Why on earth would he ever want to do that?

My mind flashes back to what he told me yesterday.

He uses it for his stomach pain. He probably started using it for that at first, but now he's using it because he got addicted to it. 

"He needs to go say a doctor," I realize and stand up, rocking back and forth on my heels. "We need to go schedule him an appointment with his doctor."

"Doctors can't help with heroin," Shelli tells me. 

"No, for his stomach," I say. "We need to get a doctor for his stomach. We got to figure out what the hell is going on with him because I don't want him to keep doing heroin if he's dating me."

Krist nods his head and stands up. "Should we go to his apartment, then?"

"You know him best," I reply. 

He sighs. "Off we go."

                                                         ----------------------------------

Walking up to Kurt's apartment was a struggle. I was nervous the whole time-I didn't know how he was going to react. I didn't know if he was mad at me, if he was upset with me, if he felt bad for me, or anything. All I knew was that he let me leave his apartment. 

Krist knocks on the door and I shudder, just thinking about what lies on the other side of that door. 

Footsteps walk towards the door and a chain hits the door, then it opens up. 

Kurt is standing on the other side of the door. 

He looks really exhausted. His eyes have bags under them and his hair is a mess-like always-and he is wearing torn-up clothes. His lips are so pale that they're almost white. 

He hasn't drank any water in a while. I can tell from his lips. If he hasn't drank any water, God knows how long it's been since he's eaten. He's always had a problem with eating. 

As soon as we make eye contact, regret fills his eyes. I can tell because that was the same expression that he gave me when I found the box. 

"Kurt," Krist says, breaking the silence. 

He looks up, no longer slouching. He stands up straight. "Yeah?"

"Can we come in?"

Kurt steps to the side and allows us to come inside. I awkwardly walk past him and sit down on his couch very quickly. Krist takes a seat next to me and Kurt sits adjacent to us on his other couch. 

There's awkward silence passing through us all. My leg bounces up and down, nervous for Kurt's reaction to all of this. 

I want to know if he's mad at me. I want to know if he hates me for going through his belongings. If I was him, I would get mad, too. 

"What's going on, Kurt?" Krist asks him. "I thought you stopped doing that fucking shit."

"I don't do it all the time," Kurt retaliates. "It's for my stomach."

"Then you go see a fucking doctor, Kurt! You don't go using drugs!"

"You have no idea what it's like for me!"

I plug my ears, not wanting to hear them argue. It reminds me of my father yelling at me. When Krist yells, his voice gets really aggressive and loud, which reminds me a lot of my father. 

The yelling stops. I remove my hands from my ears and see Kurt and Krist staring at me. 

"I'm sorry," Kurt looks back and forth between Krist and I. "I'm sorry."

My heart breaks for Kurt. I know that he would never want to be in this position; no one ever would. I try to convince myself that it's not his fault that he got addicted, but no one forced him to do it. He did it all on his own. 

Part of me sympathizes with him. I just want him to get better; I don't want to make him feel bad for what he's done. I think he already feels bad enough. 

Krist and I just sit still, watching Kurt cry hysterically. I finally decide to get up and stand in front of Kurt, right between his legs. He looks up at me, tears welling in his eyes, and leans forward, hugging my legs. 

I've never experienced anything like this before. I've never had anyone go to me for help. It's always been me going to other people for help. 

I wrap my arms around him and rub his back. "Is this alright?"

He nods his head, his cheek brushing up against my jeans. "It's alright."

I continue to rub his back, letting him know that I'm here for him and that everything is going to be okay.