"Babe, you got a letter!" Thomas called out, his voice echoing through our apartment. I had been writing some new lyrics for a solo project. I wasn't expecting any letters from anyone. I got up from my spot on our bed, quickly walking out of our room to spot a single commercial flap envelope sitting on the kitchen counter. I took it in my hands, reading my own address in Kurt's handwriting. I hadn't heard from him since he sent me that tape. Honestly, I had been too afraid to listen to it after everything that went down with Courtney.
I gripped the letter a little bit tighter at the thought, watching his handwriting crinkle with the paper. "Everything okay?" Thomas asked, and I nodded, walking out of the kitchen and into our office space. I ripped the envelope open, and unfolded the notebook paper that he so obviously ripped out of one of his notebooks, the fringe still attached to the margins. I began to read:
My dearest Erin,
I really don't know how to begin this letter except to say that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for going in and out of your life like Seattle rain. I'm sorry for continuously burdening you with my life, and I will forever regret the pain I've inflicted on you through my involvement in your life. You are way too good for me. I do not deserve you, yet every time I came crawling back, you took me in with open arms and convinced me that everything was okay.
I've relapsed with heroin. I didn't want to tell you, and I still feel uncomfortable doing so now, but I don't want to leave you thinking that this was somehow your fault. You are the light of my life, Erin, and the drugs are the darkness. It has become more of a survival method rather than a coping mechanism. I keep giving in. And that's on me.
I can't keep living these two lives, and I shouldn't expect you to do the same. I've put you through hell enough as it is, but Thomas doesn't deserve to be betrayed in the way that he has. He's a great guy. He deserves to be happy, and you do too. Don't be fooled, I would love nothing more than to call you Erin Cobain, but the timing just isn't right, and Thomas is so much better than me.
I'm leaving, Erin, and I'm leaving for good. The world will be so much better without me in it, and it's better to burn out than to fade away. I wrote another letter, one that will no doubt be handed to the authorities after I'm gone. I explain in the letter how being in the band is too much for me, and it's not fun anymore. Which is kind of the truth, to be honest. Nirvana hasn't been Nirvana in a long time. But if you're asked about me, and your involvement with me-- even if Courtney threatens to sue-- I urge you to not send this letter in. I don't want you to be in the limelight forever. I know you hate it.
I'm so jealous that you'll get to see Frances grow up. If you ever get the chance, make sure she doesn't ever end up like her mother.
One last thing-- listen to the tape I sent you if you haven't already.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Peace, Love, Empathy
Kurt Cobain
In tears, I rushed into the office, grabbing the tape that I had carelessly thrown into the bottom drawer of my desk a week prior. I held the tape in my hands, "You Know You're Right" scribbled in Kurt's familiar scrawl on the plastic casing. I took a deep, shuddering breath before I opened the casing, removed the tape, pushed it into my cassette player, and pressed play.
A/N WOW SO THIS IS WHAT THE END FEELS LIKE.