The Way We Were

January Twenty-Fourth...two months later

In a naturally lit room, I lay on a leather couch in a psychiatrist's office. I look around and study the room, smoking a cigarette. Pictures of her family on her desk and on the shelves of her bookcase. The books are all on the human psyche and mental health. The walls are painted in a tan shade and there are fresh flowers on the window sill. As I am examining the room, she comes in and takes a seat on an antique chair across from me.

This was the second time I'd be seeing her.

"Good morning Miss Cobain, how are you today?" She asked, taking out her pen and unscrewing the cap and writing something down in her notebook.

"I don't know anymore." I quietly speak, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"What is it you'd like to talk about today?" She asked in a calm almost patronizing tone.

I sigh and remain silent for a long time. Trying to think about what I should say, what I should talk about. Why I'm even here. My thoughts become distracted as I begin listening to the ticking of a clock. Tick, tick, tick. It becomes louder and louder in my head as I shudder and place my hand on my forehead. I sigh again and begin;

"I have this recurring dream...it's where I'm on the red carpet, though I don't know what it's for, but I'm being photographed by the paparazzi, and then I realize that I'm all alone...the flashes of the cameras become so overwhelming I begin to run. I push through the crowd and run until I abruptly stop and all of a sudden I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, and as I look down I see that miles and miles down, there's water rushing and crashing against the rocks. I turn to look behind me and see these faceless people; it's like they're watching me...the next thing I know, I jump. And I'm falling and it feels like it's never ending...even though I see that the end is near, I'm still falling..."

"And then what?" She quietly asked.

I turn my head slowly and look at her. With a tear streaming down my face, I say to her in a whispering voice, "...I wake up."

I sniffled and quickly wiped away the tears, grabbing a tissue and dabbing my eyes, taking a mirror from my purse and fixing my mascara.

"Now earlier you had said that you feel yourself slipping away. Let's talk about that. What do you mean slipping away? In regards to what?" She asked.

I thought for a moment and sighed, crumpling the tissue in my hand. "Reality. The life that I had used to have when I was first married and happy."

"Do you believe the miscarriage contributed to your unhappiness?"

I shuddered at the thought and looked up at her. "What kind of question is that? Of course it did. It kills me everyday."

"I'm sorry." She nodded, "How have you dealt with it since it happened?"

I thought for a moment and then sighed, shaking my head. "I haven't...I've literally kept myself closed in the house. I'd stay in bed, I wouldn't eat, I wouldn't do anything, all I did was sleep and write." I closed my eyes, thinking back to all the times I had kept myself locked up a guest room in our house in Nashville. When I wasn't in that room, I'd be in the the art studio outside, not painting or anything, but staring at my paintings all day.

My depression had gotten so bad to the point where I didn't want to do anything. Literally. And as I think back to the day Caleb left, it was also the day that he broke down and told me how he felt.

I was sitting at my desk in the dining room slowly typing at my typewriter, trying to finish a thought I had written earlier. I heard the fridge door slam, followed by a few cabinet doors slamming too.

"What is this? There's not even any food in this house!" Caleb yelled.

"I haven't gotten around to go shopping for groceries." I spoke in a monotone voice, slowly starting to type again.

"It seems you haven't gotten around to anything lately. I mean look at you, since the baby, you've changed. You're not the same person anymore. All you do is sleep, and write. You're so depressed and it's bringing me down. You don't even want to do the things we used to...You should be going back into singing or modelling, look at Behati and Lily, Lily is modelling for Rag and Bone now. You should be doing that."

"Well then you should have married her!" I yelled over my shoulder.

"I didn't want to marry her, I wanted you, and I still do!" He slammed his fists on the desk and threw everything off. I sat there with no emotion. For a long time there was silence. I finally worked up the will to get out of the chair. I went down on my knees and began picking up the many papers of thoughts and random writings I've created. I picked up our framed wedding picture; the glass had been cracked. Gently I traced the frame with my fingertips.

"I know you're hurting, but you're not the only one." I could hear his voice crack, I knew he had begun to cry. "It kills me Audrey, to know that our baby is gone. To see you killing yourself. But enough is enough, we have to move on."

I didn't say anything, all I did was lower my head and cover my face. I heard his footsteps walk past and soon the opening and closing of the front door was the last thing I heard.

Later that night I went back to the guest room and was in bed, he came into the room and laid down next to me, putting his arm around me. He was leaving this evening to go back on tour. I remained quiet as we laid next to each other.

He quietly began, "I'm leaving tonight, I'm going back on tour...Audrey, I want you to go back to New York...we need this time apart, we need a break."

I turned to face him and lifted my eyes to meet his. I thought about it for a while and lowered my eyes, nodding. "Okay."

We heard a vehicle pull up and the gravel being dragged as the vehicle came to a stop. There was then a honking of the vehicle's horn. Caleb sighed and propped himself up on his elbow. "I have to go." He quietly spoke. I turned to face him, still no emotion and still nothing said.

He placed his hand on the side of my face and kissed my forehead for a long time. I could feel his lips quiver, and a tear that fell from his eye dropped on my face. He stood up and grabbed his duffle bag from the floor, turning to leave I cleared my throat and spoke.

"I love you." I had said.

He paused for a moment and nodded. "I love you too." The vehicle's horn started up again and when I looked to the window and looked back at him, he was gone. I heard the door shut.

I turned to the side and pulled my knees up to my chest and closed my eyes.

Dr. Abbott cleared her throat, repeating the question that I failed to hear the first time. "Have you at all talked to your husband about it?"

I slowly shook my head and lowered my eyes. "I feel like there's a disconnection between us. I feel like he just hates me because of it. I feel like that's why he left."

"Did he give you a reason why he left?"

"He said he was gonna go back on tour. He told me that he wanted me to come back to New York, and that we need time apart from each other."

"There is no hint of him leaving because of the miscarriage."

I sighed, "We had a fight, before he left. He said that he's tired of me always sleeping, always being depressed and not wanting to leave the house. But how am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to move on from being so heart broken and so humiliated by this?"

"Humiliated? How so?

"We had just gotten married, at the wedding I announced that I was pregnant. And then later I had announced it over Twitter, and the whole world saw our happiness. And then not long after they witnessed my heartbreak." I clenched my fists and closed my eyes tightly so I wouldn't cry.

"Regardless of how many people knew beforehand and after, they would have known about your loss because of how popular your are in the world. Audrey, you're not alone in this. Caleb is hurting too, and maybe his way of trying to cope is running away. But he knows how you feel. Miscarriage can happen to any woman, and in no way is it your fault."

Emotionless I stared out the window, "It wasn't even much of a Christmas...I sent out my assistants to do the shopping for me. I forced myself to just sit at the table with our families...New Years, I spent that in bed...Caleb's birthday was a week ago, I sent him a text wishing him happy birthday and telling him that I loved him. All he said was 'Thanks'."

She said nothing.

I continued, "And yesterday I decided to go back on set and finish my last scenes of the film. I got myself so drunk last night. In the final scene, my character goes into a restaurant and completely blows up at another character. I was yelling and swearing in that scene, and I was grabbed by another actor, still in character and we fell backward. The director let the film roll and after he got the scene, he said that was it. He said that it was raw and so real. It was because it was. Those tears, that anger. I asked him if we were done, and he said yes, so I left and went back home."

"Have you found yourself drinking more because of anger issues along with other unresolved issues?" She asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm not on the verge of becoming an alcoholic, but yes, I started drinking again."

She nodded and I sighed. "Can we be done for today?"

"If you want."

"Yeah." I stood up and walked to the door, opening it quietly and leaving in the same way. I took the elevator to the main floor and put on my shades before going outside. I lit up a cigarette and quickly walked to my car avoiding the few cameras that had followed me. Driving away from the building and back home, black mascara tears streamed down my face from under my dark shades as I smoked my cigarette.