Had to rush out of bed this morning. 7am. Shit. Bella.
I ran to her bedroom. She was sleeping. “Bell, wake up baby.”
She peeked from behind her blanket at me. “What?” Yawning.
“It’s 7. You’re late.” I explained.
Not sure how she did it, but she moved faster than Flash.

She got to the bus stop with time to spare. She must’ve looked like ass this morning. I didn’t even get a chance to see her out. But we had a great talk tonight. I was lecturing her while we laid in bed. She told me that you never lectured her, and that’s why it’s going to be different. I promised her I’d stop lecturing her. But she also has to understand that part of being a parent is to transfer our knowledge onto them. That is our purpose here in life.

I myself was trying to get ready for the day. I jumped in the shower. Too hot. Dial it back. You loved your water steaming hot. I don’t know how your skin took it. I felt as if I was getting 3 degree burns on my skin. It never fazed you.

We were filming today. Team kicked ass, looked awesome. I took video of them working on it. We’re in our element. Having a blast. The client having a blast. I’m sipping on Don Julio with Ottinger. We were running low on supplies.

Jenn, Ottinger and I go on a liquor & beer run. We stop and get some bourbons, scotches, vodka, baileys, 5 mixed cases of beer. DD wanted German beer, Ottinger picked what he liked, Jenn did too. We’re stocked for a couple of weeks. Can’t wait for the Bloody Mary’s tomorrow morning.

Was in client meeting after another team meeting while we were filming. We wrapped camera earlier than we thought. Always a great feeling when you wrap early. Not easy in our business. Only the true Pros know how to wrap early. Fucking super stars. My super stars. Rich was having so much fun, he was giddy. He looked like a kid in a toy store. Fucking awesome. I loved seeing him that free. They’re all free. They’re empowered. No boundaries. Free to explore. Be uninhibited. Free.

How far can I go baby? I know how private you used to be. You never aired your news to the world. Okay, maybe here and there, but only because you were proud of your life and your family, mostly the kids. They were your life.
It affected me. For a longest time together, I came second. A year and half ago I snapped. I reacted. I built a wall. I built a fantasy. I revolted. I had too much rage inside of me. When it exploded, I wasn’t rational. I was fed up with life if I was to be a “second thought.” Fuck no. I put you number 1, I only deserve the same courtesy.
It was worse on you. My wrath came down hard on you. My impulses were uncontrollable. Rage that was bottled up inside of me just being violently released. You were in the way. You took the entire blow. It exploded in your face. You were crushed.
We went to see a therapist. She ended up after the first session deciding on having a few sessions with just me. Well naturally I’m the fucked up one in the equation. It makes perfect sense.
It was fun. Therapy that is. I never believed I needed therapy. While I wanted to be the one the provides therapy, but never the recipient.
My mind was racing, trying to self evaluate in the middle of the therapy session. Dr. was not going to help me. I can only help myself. I know me. I know how to fix this.
When other women would have abandoned me, you stayed. Dr. had told you what you and I had was special. Something she had never witnessed in the past from a couple. I don’t know what else she told you. Maybe that’s why you stayed. Maybe you stayed because you did believe our marriage was special. I have never met any couple remotely close to you and me baby.

I actually feel sorry for couples for not having experienced what we had. Everyone should experience this. THIS.
You stuck with me. You and I had talks nights in and nights out. I was deep in the abyss, and you came to find me to pull me out of there. And you did. You fucking did. You pulled me out. And I came up with you. Our marriage if it was drawn on a chart, it would go from 0 to gradually elevating to great level and it flat lines with few bumps up and down, but a steady level nonetheless. And then my quake took place. The needle that draws the graph would crash down below 0 in a violent second.
You were devastated. You were in rage. You picked up smoking again. You were furious at me. You told me you wanted to punch me in the face. We were laying in bed about to go at it.
I got up from bed and stood by its side. “Come on baby. Give me your best shot.” I stood with my arms behind my back.
You came at me. You were left handed, but I saw a right coming and punching me in the shoulder. Then your left on my other shoulder. You never punched me in the face. I didn’t mind it if you did. I wanted you to take it out on me. All your rage. Come on baby, give me your best shot. Knock me the fuck out. It’s okay. But you never punched me in the face. You told me that you couldn’t, you loved me too much you didn’t want to hurt me. Even at your worst moment, you were sacrificing yourself, for me.

You were all in. I was all in.

The needle slowly starts to rise and catching up speed. It races by the steady level we were living since Gabriel was born.
I wanted unconditional freedom, you compromised and gave a little to show me you cared. I gave a few of my wishes away. They don’t really matter. You nudged a little closer, allowed me more. You enjoyed seeing me happy. I gave up more shit of what I wanted to do inching closer and closer to you. Until we both met. That was the Thursday night before you left me. Our marriage had rocketed to the heavens. You went out on top baby. Damn it. God damn it. What an exit. Brilliant. Legends die young. I am smiling ear to ear.

I came home. My mother was here. She brought food for us. You loved her food. She loved that you loved her food. And she only made you what you loved. If we were having a meal that wouldn’t have appealed to you, she made you your own dish. You loved her food. You loved her food. I wish I had taken you back to visit, to eat, to smell, to breath, to walk. Something about the old world that brings a welcoming chill to your entire body.

Need to take Bogart to get groomed. He’s so dirty, your mouth would be shy. [Drums]

What do you call a dog with no legs?
Nothing, he won’t come anyway.

We were never politically correct you and I. We always thought you are what you are, who cares? It’s what’s inside that matters. We say “don’t judge a book by its cover.” Then why are we so worried about its name? Why do we label things? Label people. If their true substance is inside, who cares what’s on the outside? Why couldn’t we see the inside first then judge or label their character instead?
We thought political correctness stems from hiding something. A cop-out. An alibi. A proof that they’re not racists, or bigots, or hatters, or low self-esteemers. It wasn’t real. We respect the rule, we just don’t care much for it. Telling me to my face is more honorable than talking behind my back. Political correctness is basically someone talking to you behind your back, if that makes any sense. And I called people out on their bull shit, and we welcomed people calling out ours. It’s a dialog. It’s to be better. Only if you’re open to criticism. But you also need to consider the source.

I used to talk to you like that, deep conversations you and I had. I’m nuts. And you loved nuts. You played along. You were a different kind of nut. Mine is mental. Yours was your choice to be the clown. My god you used to make me laugh. That’s all I remember most of the time. You laughing. You making me laugh. I made you laugh like no other. We used to compete who was funnier. You were so offended when I told you I was funnier than you, not by a long distance, but close ahead.
I was straight, you were the clown. I set you up for your jokes. Oh my god, the best was when I would insult you and you’d have no comeback. LMAO. You start making that old car horn laughing sound pretending to be mocking me. That meant you had nothing. You had no comeback. I’d laugh harder at you because I got ya. I stumped you. I won. Ha.

I’m down to 174 lbs., lost 12 lbs. since you’ve been gone. I’m eating, more like fasting, but I do eat to live. I feel fine. I feel healthy. I do not feel weak. No side effects, headaches, nothing. All systems are go. Wait, I think my ankle hurts a little. Nothing major, just sometimes awkward pain if I step on it the wrong way.

Chris texted me this morning:
“Today will be a very different day than ones you have celebrated before. it is just another day – everyday was Valentine’s Day for you and Janine. You loved deeply and laughed even more so. I am glad you are listening to Abbey – focus on you and the kids, to quote a wise man – “we got this” – the part about taking care of ourselves through this. I wake up every day thinking about my friend Janine Marie – she was never Just Janine – she was unique Janine, Jenerous Janine, Jamming Janine, Joyful Janine, Jetsetting Janine (although she hated airplanes – just needed another J adjective, I was on a roll. I am so thankful to have so many wonderful memories – especially a full week in Mexico (just us four) and more recently our weekend at the beach. I am glad Dale and Olivia got to see her a few weeks ago. I cherish her and cherish our friendship. Have a good day my brother!”

Then Paulla followed with her own:
“I know what it’s like to be a single parent and I know Janine would want someone to be there for you to help you take care of “Her Bella”. Laura and I have committed to that.
I will continue to keep you all in my prayers. Have a good day.”

I want to go to sleep baby. I’m spent. I don’t have an ounce of energy. I wish I could keep writing you every minute of the day, forever.

Good night my sweet.

I Love you,

Me