Long blonde hair kissing blushing cheeks with sky blue eyes peering into the souls of millions I think of my rock legend icon, thin and frail, in his pea green sweater and my completely unhealthy obsession with Kurt Cobain as a young teenager. I had his name carved into my ankle (right above the Nine Inch Nails logo) and his image plastered on my walls.

Nirvana was supposed to be my first concert. I had been listening to them since I was 9 years old courtesy of my siblings and I was obsessed. The day they were playing our town came and I was so very excited. My mom forgot to pick me up from school that day and my sister took my ticket. Her and my brother snuck into the pit and for many years (maybe to this day) my sister would brag about that time they saw Nirvana yada yada “I was this close!” She’d exclaim waving the wristband in my face or pointing to it where it was memorialized on her wall. My mom tried to make good on it and said she would make it up to me by letting me go to Lalapolooza which I also had wanted to attend for years- but in the end it didn’t matter. Kurt Cobain took his own life that April and the world was devastated- and so was I.