Kurt

     Where was I when it happened? I was at my Dad's house for the weekend like I was every other weekend for most of my life. My parents split when I was in grade school and shared custody. It was obviously a choice to go see Dad but I felt like he needed to see me. On the drive back, in my 82' ranger, I had turned on the radio and the host said it "rock star Kurt Cobain has died in his Seattle home this weekend of what the police are calling an overdose". I froze up at the wheel. My knuckles went white, I could barely breathe. I pulled over on the little two lane highway and actually felt my body go numb. To say that Nirvana had impacted my life would be an understatement. Mom and Dad actually had a big fight when he moved over which parent I'd live with and I had chosen Mom. Dad's job had taken him two and a half hours away and he was bitter about it at first. All of this was a lot for someone in 8th grade and I had discovered Nirvana at the local record shop in the midst of it all. He spoke to me in a way no one else ever had. It was like he knew exactly what I was going through. The betrayal and fights and bribes and begging me to live with each one of them for different reasons. Ultimately I decided to stay where I was and soon dad got over that. Kurt helped me process the whole event. So did Soundgarden, Mudhoney, and Jane's Addiction. But mostly Nirvana. His music had become my Bible, my rock, my shining light in the darkness that was my life. I just couldn't believe he had actually killed himself. It felt so surreal. Everything had shattered, fallen apart, hit the fan so to speak. Nothing would ever be the same again. I think I even prayed for him, something I never did but it felt right. It just couldn't be true, not him, not him. Not Kurt, no way. I sat for what seemed like an hour or so before I pulled back onto the highway and drove home. When I got home, I threw my bag by the door and my keys in the bowl and walked upstairs to my room and crawled into bed. I don't think I came out of there for at least a week. Nothing got me out of bed, nothing. I just lay there numb and defenseless. Cold inside and broken. Nothing mattered any more, especially if Kurt wasn't even there.