I drove your car today. You had something with cars. You were a good a driver, not great, but good.

I remember the day I got my new car. I was so proud of it. I named her “Raquel” for Welch. I don’t recall where you and I were, but we were driving your car coming back home. You promised me we would make it out to the dinner date and back with enough gas in your fucking car. And as always, you never had gas in your car. Ever. It infuriated me. Somehow we decide to drop you off home and for me to go to get you gas.
I went to the gas station in Dresher.
I turn your car off, fill the tank, get back in your car. “Shit, I don’t have her fob. Fucking idiot.” I called you to tell you to drive my car and bring your fob.
“Okay baby. I’ll be right there.”
2 minutes later you call me back crying hysterically. “I banged your car getting out of the garage. I rammed it into Ma’s car parked in the driveway.”
I told you to relax. That it’s okay, it’s only a car. But you couldn’t stop crying while trying to figure out my gearshift. I was trying to calm you down so you could focus. Take your emotions away so you could think clearly.

“Okay. Okay.” A breath apart. “Okay. Sorry baby. I really didn’t mean to. I just didn’t see her car.” You were trying to speak calmly.
“It’s okay my love. Fuck the car. Who cares.” I try to further console you.
“I DO.” You yelled back at me. Now you’re angry with me somehow. Go fucking figure. I should be fucking choking you, and I’m the jerk in this equation? “You fucking bitch.” I think to myself.
“Babe. Just get your ass over here.” I tell you with a firm tone.
“I can’t fucking drive this fucking car. It’s like a fucking spaceship. What are you, Han Solo? Fuck. How the fuck do I put it in drive?” You yell at me.
“It’s the fucking knob in the center console dumbass.” I yell back at you.
“This fucking car. You’re a fucking idiot.” You yelled back. “Okay, I got it. I’m moving. I’ll be right there baby.” You said gently to me.
“Okay honey. See ya when you get here.” I say back.

You pulled up the gas station. You looked gorgeous in Raquel. Your eyes were bloodshot from crying. I held you close to me and I kissed you on your forehead. “It’s okay baby. It can be fixed. It’s not the end of the world. Seriously.” I whispered onto your forehead.
You shook your head and then nodded.

We exchange cars. Yours all filled up.
I never fixed mine. Not sure why I never did. It has scratches from our life together. Scratches from Gabe Marie’s hockey gear. Bella’s scooters and your shopping bags, staging kit, furnishings, probably some dead bodies along the way. All at some point brushed up against my car.
But I never fixed them. I bought a paint repair kit thinking they’re minimal in nature damage and nothing serious. Then I thought against it. Just take it into a body shop.
I took it for an estimate. Just never ended up taking it in. Life got in the way.
They were Life’s scars. Our life. But the car is still beautiful with all its scars. I’m proud of these scars. They remind me of all of you.

I got into the studio. Almost the entire team was there. We had a big pitch today with one of our dearest client. Lubna Abu-Osba had it all under control. She was prepared like no one’s business.

Our client arrives at the studio. We all typically work together around a conference room table. We all sit together, and I mean all of us. Some straggle into their quite place, but they’re here. We don’t us the offices we have at our disposal. Nope. We’re a team. We stick together. We are fucking awesome. I love our energy. Creativity is flowing around all of us it’s insane.
We’re constantly laughing, drinking while ideating, producing, creating, we’re free. No boundaries, no politics, none of that bullshit that typical agencies operate under.
No one is doing it like we are.
I have to admit, we’re still learning our process. My structure is that there is no structure. It’s complete freedom to explore, make mistakes and learn from them. Adjust. Refine. No different than an infant. Infants are fearless. They touch something hot, they cry, they learn, they never touch again. That’s what I tell my team. Be fearless. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Just learn from them. We are infants and are learning. Go.

Lubna Abu-Osba did an amazing job presenting. Her and Charles Smolover did an amazing job with a segment of the entire campaign we’re working on. It was brilliant. It will be so engaging, cutting edge. Trend setting. That’s us. Trend Setters. We’re ferociously creative. We’re confident, but not egotistical. We all equally respect each other because each one of them is one of the best in the city at what they do. There is no hierarchy. Okay, maybe I am still the boss, they know they’re all bosses of their role. Do your job to the best of your ability at any role you play. Take ownership. Be your own boss. Run your ship.

I got used to just playing music when I write to you. It reminds me of our nights together. Background music. I’d put Buddha Bar on. After a couple of nights you yelled at me: “What the fuck is with this music? Can’t you play something else?”
“You have Sonos on your iPhone, put your fucking Apple Music playlist on dumbass. Play anything you want. What do you want to listen to? Fucking name it and I’ll put it on.” I said.
“I don’t know, something I can sing to.” You said back.
“Now why the fuck would I put a song that you’re going to be singing to it while we’re at it?” I protest. “It’s better if you don’t know the song or the music.” I continue.
“You’re a fucking idiot. How do you come up with this shit?” Sarcastic you.
“You can’t focus on it, it’d be distracting. Here, let’s experiment. Let’s see if it’s good or bad.”

Naturally you had to turn this into a laugh factory. You started singing early on, immediately after we were getting all warmed up. I busted out laughing. That was fucking hysterical. I knew it was coming. It was just a matter of time. I was prepared. I knew you. You’re number 1 goal in life was to laugh. My god did we laugh you and I.

You knew I didn’t care much for laughing during as I take it more seriously than that.
You brought it in, and I embraced it. What’s the worst thing you could have done, make me laugh? It’s a lose-win situation. Sex lost that round, laughter won it. Next time laughter loses. Take your wins and your loses, we embraced both you and I.

I get home to find Paulla Panella Pisch and Jennifer Pflugfelder over at our house. I had texted Paulla earlier as she had kindly offered her time if we ever needed her.
I knew I’d be running late getting home. Laura gave them food to give me. I had a bite. I still don’t have much of an appetite. It was delicious rezotto with mushrooms.

Mushrooms. A memory of you. Our 2nd to last big fight. We were at dinner with friends. I mentioned that I wanted to try them. Never had them. You gave me a look. A look I hated. And I snapped at you at dinner. How dare you judge me… How dare you label me. I freak out.
“I’m not judging you.” You said.
We get home. I am still furious.
5 minutes later you came into the garage while I was smoking. “I want to try it too.” You said.
“What? What are you talking about?” I asked you.
“I read up on it. I want to do it.” You giggled.
“What the fuck changed?” I say to you.
“I was afraid you were going to die.” You smiled at me.
“It’s not going to fucking kill me, dumbass. Where do you come up with this shit? You’re just ignorant, and you learned by looking it up. Good for you.” I answer you back.
I loved you for not wanting to be ignorant. You were an airhead, but never ignorant, at least you tried not to be. You always learned new things. You were up on your news, politics, world politics. You could carry yourself in a conversation. You were opinionated but you always opened your eyes to see the other side without judgement. You were pure. You worried, that was your downfall. Your love for us, you worried too much for us, it killed you.

Adrienne Kuesel-Welber stopped by. She forgot something at our house she needed to pick up. She asked Bella: “What hair treatment do you need? I’ll take you.”
“No honey, Dale called dibs on taking her. She texted me this morning.” I said.
“Awwww“ Adrienne was disappointed.
“How about you, Dale and Olivia all go and take Bella?” I ask. I tell Adrienne Kuesel-Welber that Dulce Astolfi generously offered to do Bella’s hair. I’m going to pay for all of them to go and take her.

[Cigarette break]

I roll my cigs and use your cigarette case that Jennifer Todd gave you for a Christmas gift. You loved Jennifer. She made you laugh. She was real. I love her. She’s freaking awesome. No wonder you loved her.

They don’t get me baby. I’m too fucking weird for them. You hated them. All of them. The ones that never got me. You were vicious when it came to me. You attacked and clawed. You would have killed for me. They don’t get me. They judge me. They’re afraid of what they don’t understand. Advising others on life when their life is shit. How ironic, failures giving advice on success.
I’m surrounding myself with only the people that get me. The rest could go fuck themselves. You and I never cared, we only surrounded ourselves with real fucking people, and I’m not about to stop.

Early yesterday, Bella asked me if I was going to start working out again at night. I told her that I will once I can get a grip on my routine. “But let’s workout tonight.” I told her. “Okay.” She smiled.
It didn’t go down exactly that way. A friend of hers got dropped off. I went downstairs to the gym and worked out alone.
Tonight she asked if I was going to work out.
“Yep.”
“Can I work out with you?” She asked me.
“Yep.”
We worked out. I explained to her muscle groups, working out each on separate days. Gave her some instructions. She used your 5lb. weights. Told her to punch out while dancing as you did to your music. She was embarrassed. She went in the other room hidden from me to probably dance with the weights.

I came upstairs to smoke a cig. Bella was sitting in your car listening to a song from your playlist. I caught her earlier listening to the same song. She misses you. I know she misses you. She’s been strong, but she needs a soft shoulder to cry on. I hug her, kiss her, and tell her I love her. I wish I knew how to take the pain away. It breaks my heart for her. I can deal with me, but her? I am in tears as I type you these words.

I can’t baby. I don’t know how to. This one I’ll need to figure out.

Emotions out.

Focus.

Good night my sweet.
Love,
Me.