Today was one of the worst days for both Bella and me. Gabriel came home from school for his spring break. I had asked him to come home yesterday and stay over the weekend with us. Never knew that it was spring break until he just told me. A pleasant surprise to say the least. I’m thrilled he’s going to be home with us for a week.

Bella and I were going to go check out some kittens to adopt. Karen Weingarten hooked us up with a friend whose mission in life is to save cats. She found us Thelma and Louise. A sister kittens.
Gabriel admits he’s deathly allergic to cats. I knew he had allergy to cats, but “deadly”? Crap. Can’t get a cat now for Bella yet alone two cats.
She freaks out. She became irrational. She didn’t care about Gabriel or his well being. She promised me and Gabriel by your bedside that we would take care of each other. You were lying there in your hospital bed when we all made the promise to each other.
We cannot be selfish any more. We cannot think about ourselves and not think about others in our lives and their well-being.
I told her we would adopt a puppy instead. She wouldn’t let it go. Crying and screaming. She was being nonsensical.
I snapped at her. “This is not about just you. This is about all of us. We too lost her. It’s not just you who lost her. We don’t live in your world.”
She cried her way to her room. Funny she didn’t slam the door behind her this time around as she always did with you and me when she was mad at us. We always laughed. We would do a countdown of the door slamming.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and point a finger in the direction of her door…
BANG.
We giggled so that she couldn’t hear us laugh.
This time, no door slamming. Just peaceful exit.
I was making breakfast for Mama who slept over last night. I was making Gabriel my eggs, bacon and cheese on a tortilla. Bella just wanted the bacon on white bread.
I made Mama and myself your favorite breakfast Haloom cheese and eggs on naan bread in the oven.
I had Mama overlook the food in the oven while I went up to talk to Bella. She had her door locked. Yeah, like that’s going to stop me.
“Let me in Bell. I need to tell you something baby.” I talk to her from behind her locked door.
“No. Leave me alone.” She yells back at me.
“I’m not leaving. This is important.” I say back to her.
“No. Just go away. I want to be left alone.” She screams back at me.
I go down to find a pin or something to unlock her door through the hole in the socket. I never understood why make a socket with a lock that could be easily unlocked with a pin. What value does the lock add?
Anyway, I open up her door and walk in. She starts to scream at me. I sit by her side on the bed and started to sob. We were both sobbing. No matter what I tell her, she’s never going to listen to me.
“Give me back some ‘Yeses’ I cry to her. “Please baby, don’t give me all ‘Noes’. Throw me a ‘Yes’ once a while.” I continue while trying to catch my breath.
We scream at each other.
“I lost my best friend, I lost my wife, my lover, my love.” I cry to her looking out her window and onto our backyard.
“You need to think before you speak. You say hurtful things to people that you probably don’t even mean to say. You don’t think, you just say and you hurt. You know it will hurt them, and then it’s too late for you to fix it.” I tell her.
“I don’t care.” She answers back.
“Yes you do.” I think back to myself. “You do care. You’re just too fucking stubborn to fucking admit it. Not sure what it is you’re trying to prove to yourself or others, but it’s fucking lame for you to continue to say that. It’s cold, and you’re not a ‘cold’ person.”
“She’s gone baby.” I tell her.
“Don’t say that dad.” Bella starts sobbing and yelling more.
“She is baby.” My tears are non-stop at this point.
I don’t even remember how we left it off.
An hour later she comes into our room and says “A puppy it is.”
Fuck. Who the fuck is going to take care of this fucking dog? I already can’t handle the dumbass we have right now “Sir Piss-and-shit-a-lot.”
God damn it. “How about a gerbil or something else that doesn’t need as much maintenance?” I ask knowing what the answer will be ahead of time. It never hurts to ask. Let them tell you “no.” Don’t ever answer for others. There are always wonderful surprises that take place when you thought they’d say “no.”
“No.” She answers admintly.
I figured as much already. Was worth a shot.
She’s already trolling the internet for dogs to adopt. FML. LMFAO.
We’ll get through this. In time. I promise you baby. Time heals everything. I just have to be patient.
Yesterday was slow. I didn’t do much. I was too lazy to do anything. I still am lazy.
Luban had invited us to her house for Muskhan dinner. Mama, Alia, Jerry, her best friend from childhood Mia, and her ex, Arthur. Bella didn’t want to go. She wasn’t feeling well, and she elected to wait for Gabriel to take her out to dinner when he got home from school, maybe go see Black Panther. They did neither.
I drove Mama over to Lubna, Jerry and Alia arrived there shortly after. Mia and Arthur were already there. Mia’s daughter and son were there too. Lubna’s son Faris is the most adorable kid I’ve met in a while. So handsome, so eloquent with his speech, his manors. He’s been following the Flyers. He was telling me that we got a new goalie. I’ve been so out of it, that I haven’t been following them lately. I don’t watch TV, they’ve been on a road trip for the past couple of weeks, so I didn’t have to go to any of the home games, there were barely any.
Planning on having Faris and Bella go to the Flyers game soon. They can sit in our seats while I sit with Billy. I’ll figure it out.
I napped after Bella and I went at it. My soul is tired. Forget my body.
Christopher Cardarelli called me to check up on me after last night’s letter. He was nervous for me.
“What did you mean that you’re ‘Done’?” He asked me over the phone.
“I don’t taste life anymore Chris. All the things I used to experience alone, I always wanted to share with her. I always looked forward to her experiencing what I experienced. I knew what she loved, what she appreciated. I don’t have that person to share these things with anymore.” I answer him back.
“I realized something last night, Chris.” I started to sob on the phone.
“What Vinnie?” He asks.
“I have to let her go.” I sob more. “I cannot continue pretending she’s still here. I am afraid if I stop I’ll forget her.”
Fuck that, I will not forget you. That was a few hours ago. I’m back to normal.
I’ll figure this shit out. That’s what I do.

[To be continued later tonight…]

Okay, all good. I think.
We ordered pizza from The Box in Ambler. You loved their Pizza. It reminded you of my pizza. Our Pizzeria on corner of Broad & Girard. Oh my God did we have fun there you and I. We had some stories to tell about our encounters with customers, employees, homeless people, all walks of life on that corner in Philly. We loved our people. And they knew we loved them. They would kill for us if you and I were ever in danger. Vince and T. Brothers. An arsonist and a murderer. They both worked with us. Vince and I would go deliver pizza to the student campus in Temple. He’d drive my Dodge Colt like a maniac down Broad Street racing and weaving in-between cars because we had guaranteed deliveries within an insane amount of time that I decided on in the promotion. LMAO. What a fucking moron was I? I always wanted to go Big or go Home type of guy. Fuck it, what do you have to lose. You already don’t have it to begin with, if you don’t try then it’s status quo. But at the chance that you try and you nail it? Fuck yeah I’m going to go for it. Let them tell me “No.” instead of me making their decisions for them. Only reason we do that is a defense mechanism because we are afraid of rejection, or being ridiculed. Fuck em. You have nothing to lose. You only have everything to gain.
After the Pizzeria, we decided, well, I decided to buy a lunch truck. I had a friend who knew a friend selling his lunch truck for $7,000. I borrowed the money from your father. LMFAO. Oh my God, I am dying laughing here.
I was 20-years old for fuck sake. I had to grow up and start my life earlier than the norm. I was too mature to wait. Always hanging with people way older than myself. They taught me things. I always wanted to learn. I would listen. Comprehend. Examine. Evaluate. Make a decision with the data you collected. Do not be influenced by others in making a decision. That’s just dumb. You have a fucking brain. Use it.
Okay, back to the funny part. I already know the end, so telling it seems to already be funny. Fuck, I forgot what I was talking about. LMAO.
He agrees to lending me the money. I pay Gus “The friend of a friend” the money. He gives me the title and asks: “So where are you planning on storing the truck?” Shit. I didn’t think about that one.
“I don’t know. Where do you recommend I store it?” I ask him.
“Why not keep it here. You pay Victor 500 Dollars a month for storage.” He answers.
The lunch truck. Ha. We had some awesome days on that truck. The entire venture started in August 93, and ended in June of 94. We got married in October of 93. “October 30th dumbass. How the fuck do you get that wrong every fucking year?” I’d yell at you. “Mischief night, idiot.”
You always got the dates wrong. You always thought we got married on the 31st. Halloween night. Only you would get an anniversary date wrong. All women fucking freak out at their husbands for forgetting their anniversary, but you? No, you fucking got the date wrong every fucking year. And I loved your fuck-ups. I adored your fuck-ups. Collectively, they made, you.

Our lunch truck experience was unique, to say the least. Wake up 4am. Coffee. Jump in the car. Down 42 to Philly. We lived in an apartment in Blackwood, New Jersey. T-24 Fountain View Village. Ha.
Get into the city. Back to the same Girard Ave. area where the lunch truck was parked. We’d pick up The Daily News hot off the presses every morning.
I drive the truck. You follow me. Every day.
We reach our destination in front of Community College of Philadelphia. 17th & Spring Garden Street.
I prep the truck every fucking morning. Ice, soda, water, coffee, bags of chips, candy, gum, the grill, the deep fryer, the lunch meat, the lettuce, the tomatoes, the onions, raw and fried, the bacon, all while you sit in your fucking car reading the Daily Fucking News. LMFAO.
That was you. You sacrificed just enough. And I’m screeching and dragging on the “just” in “just enough.”
You had your limits as to how far you’d go for your love back then. You were still young. You loved me, but the more inline with “Go fuck yourself, I’m doing enough by just me being here for you.” kind of love.
Through extreme cold temperatures, and extreme heat, you sat in your Lebaron all nice and comfy. Fucking bitch.
You handled taking the orders and pouring the coffee. I did everything else. It was too much for a one man operation. I hired your young cousin Mario. I loved Mario. He must’ve been 18 then, maybe younger. I handled the grill and the deep fryer. Mario handled the cold cuts.
We had an awesome menu you and I. We used to go to restaurant on South Street. Fuck, you and I could never remember its name. Every time we bring it up, you and I start thinking of its name. We’d finally get it, but forget it the next time around.
Anyway, they had an eclectic sandwiches. We liked a few. We included our version into the menu:
Grilled Chicken Cutlets with sauteed spinach, red roast peppers, and mozzarella cheese
Grilled Vegetarian Hoagie with spinach, roasted peppers, fried onions and mozzarella.
We also served Mexican fries, God awful smell from your clothes when you got home. Worst smell ever.

You held a butcher knife to my throat a week we were getting married. We were on the truck, you thought I was flirting with one of the customers. I honestly don’t remember if I was. I’m a flirt. I love to flirt.
I called your father. “We’re done. Wedding’s off.” I tell him.
“What? Why, what happened?” He says calmly on the other end of the phone.
“She held a knife to my throat. She’s insane.” I answer back.
“Suck it up. Get used to it. You married an Italian.” He comforts me.

We got married the next week.
Our picture from our wedding walking into the main hall came up on my Facebook feed this morning. You look so happy baby. You should have been. You knew. You knew what we would have.

Good night my sweet.

I love you,

Me