海枯石烂

as a young girl, i grew up surrounded on a fairy tale of the boy who you love would ask to marry you, in the most perfect way, but i never saw it happening for me. it didn’t feel like something for me, or that it was a kind of tale that i deserved to live through

maybe this wasn’t it, instead a different kind of tale, nothing had ever been perfect. i still loved to live through each of them

in that moment, i couldn’t have seen it. perhaps i was too blinded with the idea that i only deserve to be alone, or that true love wasn’t real, or that it was but not for me. perhaps i was too scared to let myself reach that peak of happiness, it could have ruined me.

“I’m sorry...”

my heart sank. his sank deeper.

i wanted to be with him, but forever felt absolutely terrifying and i wasn’t brave enough. i always looked for security, assurance. this was it, you fucking idiot. you couldn’t see it, maybe you didn’t even want to see it.

the spring season is always bittersweet.

the cherry blossom petals fall and run away with the wind as soon as the bloom comes, and even one second is not enough for us all to stay and see them still. because we know it will come again, next year and the year after that, as it has ever since the first spring.

dear kurt,

i wouldn’t know how to start this letter to you, i don’t know how to start any letter ever but i’ve always indulged in the pleasures of writing them.

this is one of my most fondest stories to tell.

my parents love music. as in, they really do. meeting, bonding and falling in love over a shared appreciation for the same taste in music. my mom introduced my dad to a lot of bands and my dad did the same. i wish i could have seen it.

my parents love music so much, i like to think that i inherited their same love for it too, like it runs deep within my blood and DNA. when i was born, my mom and dad, the same rascal troublemakers who drank and smoked until 4 in the morning coming home from the local gig live house, had to quickly change their whole lives and become real adults. my dad, puckered up and got a real job and then another, working almost 24 hour days. while my mom did a complete 180 and immediately quit all her bad habits. she used to tell me she was a heavy smoker but the moment she knew i was there, she stopped and never had a single craving. even after she gave birth to me and even until now 23 years later, she never smoked again. i had never heard of such determination in my life.

my parents stopped their youthful lives to give me my own but they made sure that i would listen to all the same music that they so loved.

my mom tells me she played her compilation cds while i was buckled up in the back seat of a red 1992 toyota celica, the last car a newborn family should have. i never cried when the music was on and i actually would when it wasn’t.

they listened to nothing but rock music. worshipped the whole thing. guns n roses, metallica, journey, inxs, the eagles, ac/dc, queen. how many times have i listened to hotel california in my life?

they rarely listened to any other genre, especially punk or grunge but nirvana was an exception. i don’t know why, but it was. and because of all of this, i always thought that i would love and be into rock music exactly like my parents. don’t get me wrong, i do, absolutely. but the band that stayed with me the most and has ever since i was a young little bab was their one exception from rock music.

nirvana just does it.

my mom told me once she found out that she was pregnant with me a week after kurt cobain left this world and at first, she felt the first sense of happiness since his death but that quickly turned to sadness. she was sad for me, for i would never be able to personally witness kurt’s artistry and gift. i think that’s why nirvana remained a staple in our family playlist during my whole growing up.

ever since, kurt has had a special, warm, loving, hurt and beautiful place in my heart.

i listened to the Nevermind album on repeat for so many nights.

funnily enough, one of the most heartbreaking things i felt when turning from 19 to 20 years old was no longer being able to be in the Smells Like Teen Spirit niche, like i had graduated, you know?

depression and suicide is such an important matter for my life. i become too sensitive and passionate about it. i can’t stand when people are intolerant or impatient to people who attempt suicide, especially in the country and society i currently live in. i always think about how much pain people go through and it buried my heart and soul heavy knowing they could have still been on this planet with us. like kurt.

but now,

i always try to live my life and every single day in the way that kurt would have wanted the rest of his if he was still here. burning, inspired, passionate, in love, simple, human.

and sometimes i fail, and when i do, i really just think about him.

thank you for bringing my family together since the very beginning.

thank you for teaching me to live my life without a care for vanity.

thank you for writing every single song i sing at karaoke.

I miss the person I grew up loving.

Kurt Cobain.

Loving,

Always,

And your heart hurts, mine does too

And it's just words and they cut deep