Just Flashed In My Mind As My Heart Hurt

So I understand I’m not with him. I was sitting here and I got this really bad memory of him embracing a girl as they were making out. Right there, 10 feet away from me. That pissed me off and still does and I told him at the time that it hurt. Then he has the nerve to tell me a month before he gets married that he likes me. Ahhhh. He told me that that chick meant nothing that none of them do and that he likes me. Kissing all these woman and you’re engaged to be married. Kissing me and you’re getting married? What the Fuhhhhhhh? And then again, I still have feelings that need to diminish. Life fucking sucks.

I had to scratch...

I was picking my nose at my desk (it was the itch that convinced me to) and I thought I saw someone watching me from behind from the reflection on my cubicle. I looked harder instead of turning around and no one was there. Why did I get so nervous? I hate that feeling. It’s normal to pick your nose damn it. I had to scratch the itch.

I Found These Words In My Closet

I hate cleaning in general. The number one reason is because it's cleaning. Secondly, it's because, like this snowed-in weekend while cleaning out one of my many closets, I found things from the past. It's great to find things, but it's not so great to find things that bring back a painful memory. I found some of my brother's things. I would hold it with such care and put it away from all the junk that I found in the closet. Then I found a wallet and in it was my brother's obituary from our neighborhood newspaper, along with his card with his photo from the funeral that I found in my old checkbook holder. I then discovered some papers where I wrote about people who have died and strangely, the deaths were year after year then ended with my brother, which I didn't write. Today would have been his 41st b-day. I just realized at the front desk that today was the 24th, it brought me down. The calendar was in my face and it said

5 THINGS TO BE HAPPY ABOUT
- an award-worthy performance
- crusty dinner rolls
- a word to the wise
- charming front parlors
- the shuffling sound of snowsuits

What happened to, try and smile? And what happened to remember your brother on this day? What happened to he still loves you though he's gone? What happened to those things to be happy about? I'm a mess and it's supposed to be his birthday, and he's not here to celebrate life. Because, he's gone.

I found 7 pages written back and front. It was two different occasions. The first one was titled "All I Have Is Memories". After reading them I called my mom and told her about it and she said it's great that I wrote that and I should keep doing things like that. I told her that I didn't remember any of this until I read it. I wouldn't have been able to tell you this part of my life if I didn't write it down, so here you go.

"All I Have Is Memories"

Since September 17th 1992 everything in life seemed to go downhill. I can remember that day as if were yesterday. I was getting ready to go to school and when I had walked outside, the day seemed silent and gloomy. Everyone's attention was by one of the neighbor's house. Mr. Tony had died. He was a close friend to the family and to all the neighbors. He died in his sleep. Poor Anna, his wife woke up to find him dead. I really can't take deaths well; I can't stop myself from crying hysteric. But before Mr. Tony passed away another good friend of the family passed away. Maria was like a second mom, I had two of them, her and Lucy which was my next door neighbor. I've known Maria since I was 5 years old. I went to school with her oldest son. My mom and his mom always kid around and asked us if he and I liked each other. They wanted us to get married; we were only in elementary school. It's funny, today he doesn't even say hello to me. I was close with his family, but after Maria was diagnosed with Breast Cancer time flew by. Time flew by quickly to her death. I cried so much, she was like a mother to me. It was November 22nd of 1989 when her soul was taken to the stars a day full of tears and emptiness. It wasn't until Sept. of 92' I felt the same way. I could still remember Mr. Tony's sister laying hopelessly over him crying and unable to keep herself away from him. She had fainted a few times. One year later she joined her brother in paradise. After Mr. Tony passed away a domino effect had started. Lucy, she was a perfect woman. I loved her so much, she use to change my diapers. I was like her only daughter. She had 5 boys and no girls. She brought me to the circus and always stood up for me. That Lucy always defended me even if it was my fault. My mom and Lucy always sat in front of my door and folded up laundry. I remember Lucy folding the socks. She was the one who taught me to fold socks! She ran over to my house when she found out I was crying hysteric on the floor from a tooth ache. She tried everything to make the pain go away, but nothing helped. The pain was excruciating so she dragged me out of the house with out hesitation and brought me to the dentist. I came home with 2 less teeth and gores full of blood stuffed in my mouth. Even though the dentist gave me 4 of 2" needles to numb my mouth I felt all of the pain as he pulled (with pliers) my tight teethout. Blood had gone everywhere. I stayed lying in the chair holding on for dear life as I felt it being taken from me.

It was June of 93 when Lucy was in the hospital diagnosed with Cancer. I was watching her dying. It broke my heart to see her in pain. Before she went to the hospital, she had gone to Atlantic City with my mom. They loved going to Atlantic City, they went all the time. I was sitting at the opposite side at the kitchen table from Lucy when she asked my sister to fix her hair. My heart died when I saw her take off her wig. She had no hair left, that's when I knew she wasn't going to be with me long. Not to long after, I found her in a hospital bed slowly dying. Her Cancer had spread to her leg. She was a slim woman, but from being fatally sick, she grew thinner. Her right leg was so skinny and her left leg was three times the size. Her foot was swollen and all discolored as the top of her leg was. She was constantly throwing up in her bedpan. I use to pet her head where there no longer laid any hair and told her everything is going to get better. My sister would cool her face with a wet towel. I told her that I was also in pain. My back was always hurting. I told her that the doctor said I had scoliosis. I thought if I told her I was in pain, she wouldn't be lonely with feeling pain, but hers ofcourse was more painful. I had visited her everyday until the day she died. I had gotten sick from depression. Before she died, on my birthday I had a dream of Lucy. She was about five feet away from me with her hand out to me; she was saying

"Good – Bye Cha Fai Good – Bye."

I told her not to leave, that it wasn't time yet. I begged her "Please stay, don't go, wait a few more days, please." She had listened to me. My cousin Joe got married four days after my dream and then the next day Lucy passed away. She was buried in a dress mymom made for her to wear at her son's wedding. That's how I last remember seeing her in her coffin and that was the last time I got to see her.

Ever since her death my back got worse and I started to get sick. I constantly threw up and felt faint. Then after a while I started to feel better. But as the end of the year came I got sick again. I was sick through out the whole year of 94'. I was constantly at the doctor's. I always felt weak and tired, I never got any sleep. I thought I had an ulcer because I always felt sharp pain and uncomfortable pain in my stomach, which was always followed by throwing up. I've had this cough for the longest time. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I was working in the city now full time. It was hard to make appointments to see the doctor. I had to either make an early appointment before work or a late appointment after work. It would have been great if my doctor had the same schedule. But when I did see my doctor I didn't get any answers. So that's when I decided to go for a second opinion.

In December my cousin Joanne referred me to Dr. Lou. She said she had made an appointment for her and I at 5:00. I had to leave work early that day, my boss wasn't happy. When my cousin's name was called I went with her straight into the doctor's office, then we went into the patient room. I had told him that I've been feeling ill through out the whole year, but I recently one day started to black out. It was before 6:30 in the morning because my alarm hadn't gone off. I was having this weird dream.

I had a dream that I was sleeping in bed and all the clothes I owned were on top of me keeping me trapped under a big pile. I was feeling extremely hot in my dream from the warmth of the clothes lying on top of me. The dream felt so real, that the heat woke me up. I had gotten up and discovered my hair soaking wet. I put my hand under my shirt as I was walking to the bathroom. That's when I felt puddles of sweat in the palm of my hands. It seemed as if I jumped into the shower with my clothes on. I was really dizzy, but I thought I got out of bed to fast and the blood had rushed to my head. I was walking like a drunk. I finally reached the bathroom and sat on the toilet.

I had to hold on to the sink and the toilet paper holder. I felt real dizzy that I thought I was going to fall. I still thought I was dizzy because of getting up really fast, but when I held onto the sink and slowly picking up my heavy head to look in the mirror, I found my face was pale as a ghost. I quickly turned on the faucet and splashed my face with cold water. It didn't help it made everything worse. When I went to look in the mirror again I couldn't see. All I saw was pitch black. I couldn't breathe, my chest started to get sharp pains, my stomach also started to get sharp pains and that's when I started to get an anxiety attack. I was hunching over with my arms spreading out looking for help as if I were a blinded girl. My heart started racing as I cried. I thought I was dying. I found my way out of the bathroom and held on to the end of the wall for dear life. My screams were whispers; I had no strength to talk. I was still blinded by the darkness that came to me in the bathroom. Frightened that I was never going to see again or die had me slowly losing grip at the edge of the wall. I kept saying

"Mah, I'm going to faint, help me."

After repeating myself for the third time, I had no strength to hold on and started to fall. My sister had caught me. She heard my soft cry for help. If she wasn't there to catch me I would have fell and hit my head and knocked myself out. I was so weak that she dragged me into my bed as If I were a dead body. My body was numb and my foot kept hitting everything that was in the way. I was having an outer body experience as I watched my sister drag me into my room. My sister throws me on the bed and says,

"It's because you don't know how to eat right."

She is totally wrong. She thinks I'm an anorexic. Which I am not! I'm just a thin person who can eat a lot and not gain weight!

My sister left me lying there as she left the room to go upstairs to smoke a cigarette. As I laid there alone in a fetal position, the pain got worse. First the sharp pain in my stomach took the wind right out of me. I couldn't breath, my chest felt as if it was caving in. I no longer felt my heart and my back gave me pain as if it were broke in two. Punching my back trying to help the pain go away didn't help. That's because I didn't feel the punches, my whole body was numb. I've never felt pain like this before. I really thought I was going to die! Slowly the pain started to ease. A half hour later I could finally move. I sat up on my bed and waited for my head to stop spinning. As I got up to walk upstairs I found the spinning never went away. As I finally approached the top of the stairs I dragged my feet on the floor to the refrigerator door. I reached for the Brita water and held it with my two hands. I was going to drop it, it was too heavy fro me. I told my sister to help me. She picked it up and poured a glass of water for me. She even gave me a bowl of cereal with milk.

She said, "Eat this! Will ya?"

She was pissed off. Don't ask why. My youngest brother woke up and came up to the kitchen. (Our bedrooms are in the basement) I had asked my sister to feel my head to see if it was hot. Then I told my brother to get me a thermometer upstairs by my sister in law. My brother and his wife lived upstairs on the second floor; it was a two family house. He came rushing down the stairs and handed it to me. I had over a 102 fever. I think it was 104.

After reading this I then I found the last two pages to be this letter.

My niece Eryn is a remarkable child. I always tell everybody that she's my life. She's permanently attached to my back. She rides upon my back and puts her small arms around my neck. As a joke when I tell her to hold on tight, she strangles me. Her long legs are gripped around my waist as she laughs her heart away. She is a smart four year old who has my heart going wild. My mother was telling me a story about Eryn, it was the cutest thing.

Eryn would pick up the phone and have a conversation with her imaginary person, she had many. When she hung up, she picked up the phone to talk to someone else. This someone else is very special and he wasn't an imaginary person.

She said, "Hello, Martino… where are you?... Oh!... You're there? In the sky?... What are you doing?... And what is your friend angel doing?... OK… Bye Bye."

My mother sitting on the futon couch began to cry hysteric. Eryn joined her and put her arm around my mother and said, "I miss Martino, I miss Martino!"

Just the other night I was upstairs by my niece, my sister in law and I were watching television. Eryn came out of her room and told us,
"I want wings like Martino, so I can fly with Martino."

Looking at this precious child with my elbow on my knee and my chin cupped in the palm of my hand, I felt the urge to cry. I shifted my head and looked at my sister in law and smiled, I held the tears, but they were shedding inside. Eryn claims that Martino is in her closet and he has wings, she had told us that she seen him all the time, but she never mentioned the wings before. Martino must have just received his wings recently.

After reading these pages, I thought to myself that I was happy that I had written that part of my life, but at the same time hurting. I didn't remember any of it till I read it, it took me back and now those memories are back in my heart. That is why I think blogging is so important, I can always look back and remember my life.

This Just In...

Ok, so my coworker just left my desk to tell me that he received an email from an old coworker who left the company a long time ago letting him know that his wife had passed away two years ago from Ovarian Cancer. Of course he is upset and a bit spooked out. I feel bad, I'm just the messenger and it sucks at times.

Interpreting my dream

I finally approached my coworker and told him about my dream, he had no clue what it meant. So I had asked him if he knew anyone who had Cancer. Ends up that he knows someone in Florida that has Prostate Cancer (that would explain my dad, he lives in Florida) and he knew someone in Germany who is dying from Cancer who is worse off than the Prostate Cancer. So I told him that he’s going to die soon.

My friend Lilley said that she was suppose to make favors for a wedding (that would explain the food for a SHOWER), she then told me today that her mouth was spitting up blood (that explains the red liquid I saw in the glasses on her television). That’s all I have for now. Oh yeah and the cheese cake brownie, let’s just say today we got food ordered for a meeting, which rarely I ever seen happen here, and I saw the dessert dish. There wasn’t any cheese cake brownie but I stole two brownies and an oatmeal cookie.

He needs to GIVE UP

How does one break up with someone if the other person is too deeply in love with them? How does one make sure the other doesn't do anything crazy? No matter how many times she tells him that she's not in love with himand she doesn't want to be with him, there he goes trying to buy her something or do something that he thinks will make her keep him in her life. Trying to be someone else and not being himself at all. He's just trying to be that painting that she has painted in her heart for her man to be. He discovered it's not him so he's doing everything in his power to be the man in the painting. Does he not know he's only making it worse?

Should she be miserable in the relationship or be free of pain and out of the relationship, with him being miserable out of it? I say get out!! She’s going crazy, she isn’t herself anymore. She can’t differentiate anything that is so simple to see. She doesn’t want to hurt him. What about her? Shouldn’t she be selfish for once? Just this one time, it should be about her, what she feels, what she doesn’t feel and what her gut is making her feel. Shouldn’t she have the right to break up with him and not have to worry about him flipping the fuck out? Yes! The relationship isn’t just making her go bonkers, it’s reflecting on her friends too. They are the ones who hear it from both ends. He needs to stop. That’s what he needs to do. I understand he loves her, but if you love someone wouldn’t you want them to be happy? So let her go!!! She is not happy. She’s is miserable. Stop trying to be an imposter.

He tends to exaggerate things, he starts thinking crazy things, that’s the immaturity falling into place. He would spend a million dollars on a puppy just to see her smile; he would pay her bills when she lost her job and never thought that her parents could take care of that. He feels responsible for her. In his mind he thought it was love, but all it was and he doesn’t see it, is CONTROL! He thinks she will be thankful and grateful for his generosity, but it’s not generosity. He wants to be the father figure and take care of her. Sometimes I think he’s like one of those men that once he is married he tells his wife to stay home and become a house wife. He’ll work and bring home the bacon (eww) the dough. We don’t live in 1945 anymore. You can throw that IN CONTROL bullshit right out the window buddy. He needs to realize this; he needs to realize he can go on with out her. They are two different people who do not mesh well together. No matter how hard he tries to be well not himself. Yes he might be in love with her, but in reality it’s all about him not giving up. If he wants something he’ll go and get it even though he never needed it or doesn’t have any relation with it. If he has a thought of anything he doesn’t think twice. He thinks “Oh shit, yeah I have to do this”, when he has no clue what it entails. That is her; he doesn’t know what her love entails and will never know. So evidently he needs to give up and that is not in his vocabulary.

She cares for him and that’s why it’s hard to break it off for the millionth time. She's exhausted. He keeps insisting on her not to feel not to feel. “Give me one month.” How many times does she have to hear that, with every single time she tells him it’s over? Why be in a relationship only because you are used to it? You should be in a relationship because you both share the same feelings for one another, feel that there is room for it to grow stronger. Not to think of your significant other and feel sick, with thoughts running in your mind on how many ways can you get away and how to finally convince them to leave you alone.

Her heart isn’t in it. It’s a bit over two years, don’t think of it wasted. Its two years of learning what you should really feel when you’re truly in love. If she feels what she felt in this relationship in a new one waiting for her later in life, she’ll know right away that it isn’t meant to be and she will be stronger from the past one to leave. Then there is a relationship waiting for her that she’s never felt so happy and she can see how it’s really suppose to be. She shouldn’t linger around in this unhappy relationship and she should just leave him now. Put her foot down, it’s ok for him to hurt, it’s not her fault and what ever actions he takes after she breaks it up, it’s not her fault. He honestly needs to grow up and stop being selfish. Love sometimes means you have to let go. So … well you should know the rest of that sentence.

Believes In ME.

I get a call last night …

He said “What are you doing right now?”

“I’m trying to fall asleep.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No it’s ok, I wasn’t sleeping.”

“I miss you and I’m mad at you.”

“Mad, at me? For what? Because of Monday? That I didn’t come sing at the studio? You were suppose to call me and let me know if it was on.”

“Well first I miss you because you’re an incredible person, and yeah I’m mad because of Monday, but actually that’s my fault, I didn’t call you, I heard you’ve been there a few times lately.”

“Yeah, hello you didn’t call me so I thought you guys were trying to still put things together and thought you weren’t ready for me yet. Anyway I only went one time after you were there to pick up Hopes wave files and we stayed to listen to the band rehearse. That’s it, I haven’t been there since.”

He apologized. “Yeah I’m sorry; I’ve been working on my house… How was the band?” He went on all the details of redoing his entire apartment so he can rent it out.

“Well ok, you just let me know when you are ready. They were ok, they need to be real tight and I really couldn’t here him singing he wasn’t really singing into the mic.”

“Oh, yeah true. I’m in my truck smoking pot (he giggles, that explains the I miss you dialogue), my friends are inside, ones an attorney and the other is a doctor (Well that’s what I think he said) and they don’t want to be around that shit, so I came into my truck (he giggle once again)”

“You’re crazy. Ok well just let me know when is a good time...”

He cut me off with “Ok, I’ll call you.”

He always does that, abruptly gets off the phone with me once we’re in the middle of a conversation. Must be all the pot. My friend, producer and DJ who believes in me. He thinks I’m one of the greatest singers he’s ever heard, tells me I give him goose bumps. I wish I can do that to everyone who listens to me sing.

I Already Told...

I wish I were in bed!! It's snowing and I feel dizzy hacking up my lungs. I can picture it now. I can see my electric blanket dial glowing on 8 as I lay so comfy reading by book "The Lovely Bones" making my eyes very tired and waking up to it being Saturday for at least 4 days straight. YAY! All these people passing my cubicle are making me even dizzier. STOP IT FREAKS!! STOP WALKING PASS MY CUBICLE!! Ok I am not looking up anymore; I’ll just have to throw something at the next person who walks by. A rubber band? My high lighter? Or maybe my telephone and tell them to call someone to help them off the floor after I’ve knocked them out!!! Well they won’t be able to call anyone if they’re knocked out. Doesn’t matter I won’t be dizzy anymore. That might cause a crowd of people to come over though ehh. What will tomorrow bring me? I already told Ann and Mia that I would be going with them to a Jam session and Mia's boss is having a little get together after a party at a gallery for an artist. So we have to decide how we are going to do all three or maybe just two.


Tomorrow - My alarm will go off at 6:20 just to warn me that I would actually have to get out of bed soon. I’ll set the alarm again to 7:10 and slowly get out of bed asking myself if I should go to work or stay home. I’d accidentally kick my cat off the bed with the decision that it’s off to work I go. It’s going to be cold. I’ll be at work, bored out of my wits. I’ll probably cough up my other lung since I already coughed one of them today and drag myself out with Ann and Mia. Mia and I will have to wait for Ann to get out of work at 7 since Mia and I get out at 5:30. We could go to the gallery and look at some beautiful paintings and then meet up with Ann at the studio. It’s all up to Mia and really up to me if I make it into work tomorrow; I’m feeling like crud man. I think I’m getting a cold damn it, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I am so totally picking my nose now in my cubicle. I blew my nose and lost my hearing in my left ear, I think I lost an eye in that action also. I stuck my tissue in all the way up my nose and picked it out. I really don’t give a rat’s ass if anyone sees me. They’ll probably stop walking by my cubicle then.

Looking through closed eyes

It was my dad. He was at my job, but of course it was a different place and a coworker of mine was in the same office too. There was a counselor there and she told my dad he had Prostate Cancer and that my coworker had it (Cancer, but not Prostate) a lot worse and my dad just had a little bit. Of course knowing it was a dream I felt like I was flipping out in person though I was asleep, because I was upset my dad had cancer and he was going to die. My dad was upset; he was really sad and I thought that now I had no choice but to move to Florida. My coworker was sitting next to my dad and the counselor put it in his face that he's worse off than my father. Then it was two of my friends, Ann and Lilley. We were sitting down and it was dim. We decided to quit our jobs and go into business together. Then suddenly Lilley and I are in another room, and she had so many glasses of drinks on top of her television, all over, I kept thinking, oh shit don't let them fall. There was food on a table and she said "Oh they brought this over for the Shower", the way I used to do taste testings for the luncheons at my old job. Well it was the same thing, a taste testing for a Shower. Who's Shower? I have no clue. I couldn't taste anything because it was all meat except for the dessert and I was looking for a cheese cake brownie. The phone rings and it's my coworker and I told Lilley to tell him that I was on vacation that I couldn't make it. Come to find out, he wanted to speak to her and not me, he had asked her if she was going to be at the club and that he would be there at 4:30(am) and if she could meet him there. She hungup and was confused, that is all I remember.

Puerto Vallarta, Not So Nice After All

I was almost there, almost at work. I thought I would be fine, start the day good. On the corner, why couldn’t I have been further from these men?

“Yeah, Puerto Vallarta Mexico."

“Oh nice…”

In my mind I kept playing the same old broken record, “don’t cry, be strong, be strong, be strong!”

Was he trying to tell me that he’s with me, or was it just another painful reminder? I thought on the train before this painful moment happened, that it’s Tuesday, three more days till Saturday. I was actually happy. I wasn’t even going to let all those stupid strangers on the train bother me with their dirty looks. I still don’t get it. The need to give me the dirty looks, but I wasn’t going to let it bother me this morning. It wasn’t going to ruin my day, something else was in the wood works that was going to do it and I didn’t even know it.

I thought if I can get through Monday without thinking about Sunday, I might just be ok, but Sunday wasn’t ok. As I kept pounding my head with my fists sobering in my car, I couldn’t stop asking him to “help me, please help me, please help me be strong, I’ll be ok please help me be ok. Why am I like this? Why? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please…”

I couldn’t catch my breath; I took the drenched tissue to my eyes and tried to wipe the pain away. I looked down to my jeans and noticed I got mud on them from planting the flowers I put to his grave. It had a huge yellow ribbon with Beloved Brother stapled to it. It was freezing and I shivered as I dug the earth where my brother’s body lives now. His soul, just takes up the whole space of the air I breathe. My gloves full of mud, my toes frozen and my mind was lost. Ten years ago on this very date, I remember it was raining. I said that the angels were crying. Yes I did say angels, but they are not in any sort of definition with God, since I don’t believe in God. Angels are human souls that were pure while they were alive and helped people, that once they died that still lived on in their soul, and that to me is an angel.

I had my foot on the break pedal, my hand on the gear trying to change it from Park to Drive. I couldn’t do it. I broke down again. I would hear myself crying and it was a mourner’s cry, it only made it worse. Was I watching myself cry? Was I having another outer body experience and feeling what I was feeling? I watched myself sway back and forth putting my head on the steering wheel and feeling the need to crack my head on it. My hands clutched into fists wanting to shred my coat off and everything around me. I kept pulling my hat thinking that if I just hold on to something maybe just maybe I can find some strength. But, I couldn't find any. I was weak and getting weaker.

“What is wrong with me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t. I’m not OK, I’m not! I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!! Can you even hear me? The pain. I’m sorry, sorry.” I just wanted to scream, I wanted the whole world to know what they have lost. My brother. I wanted them to know that I now have an angel with me and I rather have my angel alive. I rather not know what it feels like to live life in a mourner’s pain. It’s something that stays with you forever. Ten years. Ten years and it still feels like it just happened. He went to Puerto Vallarta and never came back. Puerto Vallarta isn’t so nice after all!

My insides are still shivering, I’m distraught. That’s a feeling that will never go away, ever!

When I drove into the cemetery, I had a flash back when my dad just got his new Lumina. They were going to leave and I needed to know how to drive, because I was staying. My dad would let me drive in the cemetery. He would get out of the car as soon as we entered and we switched seats. I would drive to my brother. I suddenly missed my dad. I missed my mother, my brothers and sister and my nieces and nephews, my entire family and friends and mostly I felt lonely. I sat in my car for a half hour after I stood by my brother’s grave in the intolerant cold for 20 minutes. I needed to go home; I needed to get myself together. I thought I was going to get into an accident. It felt as if I was intoxicated and I had no sense of where I was going. I was numb. The cemetery was going to close and I didn’t want to be stuck inside. So I left.

Curiosity Killed The Heart

Women go through this all the time. Doesn’t matter how old you are. Liking someone is not singled out by age. Liking is just like dying doesn’t matter what age you are, it does not discriminate you by age, it just happens to you at any time. My friend from Florida
tells me about 2 months ago that she started to date someone that I know. He’s been lets just say not giving her what she needs. I was on the phone with her and I heard her texting someone on her cell while she was telling me about her curiosity of “what the fuck is going on in the Boy’s mind?” and hung up on me abruptly because her boss was coming. She emails me 10 minutes later. This is our e-mail.

MF: i just texted him, "When are you off again? I don't work Monday.
Call me." he'd better call today. he's really fucking with my head.

CF: funny i was going to email you who are you txtn? yeah well he'ssleeping now, so you prob won't hear from him for a while.
yeah that wouldn't be nice if he didn't call you back today.

MF: not nice at all. i don't know what to do about him.

CF: kick him when you see him.

MF: i don't know WHAT i'll do when i see him. kicking sound good, though.

CF: yeah a good hard one right in his shin.

MF: can't i punch him in the nose? that'd be fun, too.if he doesn't call me today, will you find out what the FUCK is going on?

CF: absolutely!! that's to finding out shit

MF: i had a little breakdown last night and just cried. not a pretty sight. and now, my eyes are puffy and sore.

CF: it was a good thing you did that. it's good to cry.

MF: i was just so frustrated and even if he doesn't mean to, the way he'sacting make me feel... less. you know? sigh.

CF: i know, i hate that men make us feel this way. why must we have aheart?? don't get scientific on me.

MF: damn... i was gonna explain about all the blood, and pumping and stuff. i just want it resolved. is he, or is he not, interested in seeing me?!1?!?!!?!?

CF: well if you don't hear from him today, you should give him a call latetonight and ask him that very same question to him. Even if you getthe vm leave that on it. Put your foot down, it won't be embarrassingat all.

MF: i know. i should.

CF: you go for it!!

MF: I want to call him L

CF: i know, all you have to do is wait. now isn't that grand??? i hate today

MF: the waiting is hard. i just want a bit of attention. is that so muchto ask!?!?!?i hate today, too.

CF: no not at all. we all want that, i've been wanting it for the longesttime and never got it. Imagine how fucked up i am lol.

MF: is THAT what made you crazy??? ;)will you text him and see if he answers you back? i mean, it doesn'thave to be now. I just want to know if he's avoiding me.i am SO fifteen years old.

CF: no it's the blood that runs through my veins and all the voodoo.

GROWLING

My stomach was growling and it has been doing that for the longest time. Today it was just more annoying than usual. It must have been because I got very agitated last night. Doesn’t that suck? How nerves can get the best of you and make you feel even worse on top of being aggravated?

“Oh, Isa I have to go to the bathroom.”

I thought the whole world was going to come out of me, but all that came out was air. That’s part of the world. I was relieved but at the same time annoyed that it was still rumbling and giving me that disheartened feeling. Today feels like a dizzy day. The kind of day when you’re in a daze and you just feel real frigid and the only image in your mind is your bed with you laying in it. You can’t think because there’s nothing there in your mind, being a strayed to La La land.

An e-mail has been sent out to the four of us at work from Isa. It was sent to Umay, Joy, Laura and me.

Subject: before Cha Fai says, "I'm hungry!"

The message read:

Anyone want to do sushi for lunch?

So, this is the story, I’m always hungry. I make an announcement as soon as I start feeling just a bit hungry and then start screaming when I’m real hungry. This happens to be only for lunch, I really don’t eat breakfast and if I do it’s a freshly squeezed Juice from the deli across the street from my job. Carrot, Celery, Apple and Ginger Root -- a lot of Ginger root. I got everyone at work into it now too. Any hoots, back to me being hungry. I get to work at 9am and at 9:20am I’m announcing my hunger. At 10am I’m screaming for lunch. They make me suffer here. We all have lunch together, so they make me wait till 11 even till noon. Those son’s of bitches or should I say daughters. Then at 10:18am I get an e-mail from Isa.

We ended up going to the Sushi restaurant near work. I ordered Shrimp Tempura roll and miso soup. Everyone put all their tofu in mine, Isa said I don’t get enough protein. We ate and had a great hour away from work. We get back to work and I still feel like crud. Maybe it’s because I’m getting depressed trying not to get depressed.

Though I try not to think about it, everyone is trying to make plans with me for this weekend. It’s nice that I’m included, shows I’m actually loved, but it only makes me more depressed.
“I can do anything any day but Sunday, Sunday is not good for me.”

Everyone’s answer is “Why not?”

“It’s my brothers 10 year death anniversary, and I never do anything on that day, I’m not in good shape that day. I go to the cemetery and just don’t want to do anything.”

I really don’t. It doesn’t feel right. Though it’s been 10 years and people tell me to get over it and I reply fuck you, it’s just something that will never fade. I’m reminded that my brother isn’t here anymore, how the fuck am I suppose to feel? No one understands, so they should shut the fuck up when they tell me to get over it. I know he’s dead. He’s gone. That’s it!! So why am I not allowed to miss him?? That’s what I feel and that feeling hurts deeper than anyone could ever imagine. Unless they’ve lost a sibling they would never know what I’m talking about. I was a teenager when he died, to lose someone so young so close to you scars you (He died 8 days shy his 31st birthday). You change, you’ve lost yourself along with half your soul and can’t get it back. Grief counseling, that’s one of the things my friend Ann says to me. She thinks I need grief counseling. I’m the therapist. Well, everyone’s therapist. I’m the one who helps everyone get through things, I’m the one who make people realize things, and I’m everyone’s Dear Abby. It’s me, me me me me!! I’m the strong one! I’m the one who is supposed to see what others don’t. I’m the one who understands what I feel. Grief counseling won’t do Jack Shit!! I understand what has happened, I have accepted what has happened, but no one, not a single damn soul out there can ever tell my heart not to grieve. Why don’t I just rip your arm off and then let me tell you to get over it, go to physical therapy. You’ll never get over the missing arm and physical therapy will not bring your arm back. So SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Now that’s why my stomach is growling.

Time Screwing With Me

So, Hope and I make another plan to see a studio -- another studio.We had to meet at 8PM. I got out of work at 5:30PM; I honestly didn'tfeel like taking a 45 minute ride on the train to go home only to getin a car to go back from where I came from. I asked Joy who is in thecubicle next to mine, if she wanted to go have dinner. So we did. Weget on the train. It was only suppose to be a 15 minute ride. 45 minutes passed and we were lost. Sitting there laughing we finally find the right train and get out of the station.

Walking to Café Habana, Joy pointed to the corner saying that we are almost there.

“Where? Where those people just walked out of?”

“Yeah, right on the corner… good thing there’s no line outside the door, we’ll get a table quick.”

These two men pass us by as we approach the Café. They were good looking too. I really need to start putting my glasses on because from far I thought they were two women. They both had long hair, one had dreads on his dirty blonde hair and the other one I think had dark straight hair, he had a hat on, but they were really nice to look at. Two white boys part of Soho. I would love to meet a man with that Soho style. I’m not that type of woman who likes to see a man in a suit. I actually hate that shit! It’s fine for work, but once you’re out, take that shit off!! I’m that type of woman who likes a man who has an artistic style.

Joy walks in first as the velvet curtain is stuck on my bag that is on my back. There was so many people in this little whole. I was hoping that the food better be worth it. I was so hungry. We advanced from waiting by the door to the bar, which was only five feet away, but that put us at the front of the line. The place was so small, no matter where I stood; I was always in the freaking way. We were fooled by people who kept getting up, thinking we were going to have a table, Those shmucks where just taking a walk either to the bathroom, (for the life of me I don’t know where the heck it was, there was no room for one) or just to go outside to make a call or smoke a cigarette. Finally two people leave and the waitress is showing us to our table.

We checked every person on the way to the table to finally be crowd free for a millisecond. We sat in the corner of this intsy bitsy place. The table was the size of a chessboard and it was either everyone’s ass or elbow in Joy’s face. The table next to us, which was actually a cm next to us, had two guys sitting on the same side as Joy and two chicks on my side. It seemed as we were one table. They must have been Australian, but I kept thinking they just wanted to be cool and try and speak with an Australian accent. The guys kept looking at us, smiling and giggling. Not sure if they were talking about us or they were just retarded.
It was 7:30 and our food arrives. I scarf down my food and was still hungry. Joy was satisfied and I was contemplating to get something else, it was hard, I don’t eat meat. We ended up getting dessert instead. My phone rings.

“Ok, are you ready? Come out.”

“Wait, wait my dessert is coming. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Ok, hurry up I don’t want to be late. Funny shit, this studio is only three minutes from here, I looked it up on Mapquest.”

“That’s awesome, so we have time.”

We got lost.

It was get lost day I swear. I hate downtown. I can only understand where the heck I am with numbers. Names? You can forget about it. I’m lost. The street went into a fork and we beard to the left instead of right and let me tell you one block made a big difference. So our three minute ride ended up being 15 minutes. We find parking and the doors are numbered as if they were numbered by someone who’s dyslexic.

“45, here it is.”

“What apartment is it?”

I think she said 3B or was it 3D. Doesn’t matter. On the elevator ride up to the third floor I start to ask questions about the person who has this studio.

“So, what’s this dude’s name?”

“His name is Tomas.”

What else could I do but make fun of the name.

“Toooooooooooooooe moss?”

Hope walked out of the elevator in front of me and walks right back in behind me and pushes me hard to get out almost hitting the wall. The dude was standing right out side his door with the gayest smile. He definitely heard me make fun of his name and still he smiled like a dodo. He greets us and holds the door open for us.

What was up with this day, the restaurant was the size of my cat’s litter box and now this studio – not really a studio but a damn apartment, was smaller than my kitchen. Once again I had no idea where the bathroom was, where the heck would there be space for it? So, we walk in three feet into the apartment and WHAM, there’s his bed!! UNCOMFORTABLE was not an understatement. His work area, which lets just say is the studio, was right next to his bed. His desk was right next to his bed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hit his forehead on it in the middle of the night. Toe Moss had his computer and a mother board in the proximity of two feet. That’s how big his darn studio was. He had an oriental screen with sound proof foam in it. So he would close it into a triangular shape to prevent any sounds, can we say claustrophobia? There really wasn’t any room to be in it and have a mic. It really wasn’t sound proof with the top being open. It was just eerie. The three of us sat there, Hope and I were sitting on two chairs probably older than our mothers as he sat on his computer chair. We listened to Hope’s songs and explained to him that she needed it mixed and mastered and wanted to do a few new vocals on one of the tracks. Then we listened to some of his work. Hope had seemed to like it; I would just nod my head and give some criticism. When we finally left I had told her that there is no way she is going to work with this dude, especially with his bed right there. She agreed.

We headed for the car and didn’t have a clue how to get home. There was a crowd of people standing outside this restaurant we were parked in front of. So me and my big mouth blurted

“HEY! Do you know how to get the Willy B?”

As they all turned around, Hope and I discovered that they were all Chinese. I was so hoping they spoke English. Thank goodness they did, one of them come over to the car bending over and starts giving directions. The crew started laughing at us, I had to be a pain and play with them.

“WHAT’S SO FUNNY HUH?? YOU FIND THIS AMUSING???”

“Nah, were laughing at him. He’s got IBS”

“Oh, so is that why your standing that way, you have problems shitting?”

He picks one leg up and pretends to blow a fart, “Yeah, you see I can’t” implying that he couldn’t fart.

He tried giving directions but kept getting interrupted; he was drunk, but funny. He had asked us where were coming from.

“So where are you coming from, work? Where are you going now? What are you up to?”

“We were just checking out a studio and we’re going home now.”

“Really? A Studio? We’re going karaoking, why don’t you guys come? You can sing? Are you singers?”

Hope and I answer in unison “Ummm uhhh yeah” as we looked at each other.

“Oh come on you have to hit a note for me.”

“NO, you sing!!”

“Ok ok give me an artist”

Hope tells him to sing George Michael. He’s astounded, “Wow, that’s my favorite artist, how weird is that you picked him.”

So he starts, he’s squatting on the floor holding on to my open window.

(Singing) “uhhh” it sounded like he just took a dump, “it would be nice if I can touch your body……”

I almost choked. He was good but he kept “uhhing” in the entire song, funny shit.

So I turned to Hope and she didn’t want to go, I told her that she’s always complaining how she doesn’t get to live a city life. Go to work and then just go straight out in the city. I convinced her.

“OK, only a half hour.”

“Fine.”

We went I sang he sang and finally Hope sang My Immortal. The crew was a bunch of fun lads; we had the singer, the one girl who was hanging with all 10 men and the dancer and then the stripper. Well the stripper came once he had one to many. Overall we had an awesome time, laughed my ass off, wait I don’t have an ass, and exchanged numbers. To top it off they were pretty cute too. It was all friendly and fun. The half hour became 3 hours. I’m telling you, time was totally screwing with me that night.

The Plan

Hope and I are trying to make plans to go see a studio. Hope wants to find a studio with a producer who will work with her music. She was one the girls in my group that I had for a hot minute. Everyone sort of decided that it was better to go solo. We all had different interests in what type of music we really wanted to do. The harmony was so tight and the feeling to sing with these girls was one of the best feelings I’ve ever felt in my life. To sing with someone who has the same passion as you and for it to sound perfect giving you chills down your spine. It was Mipenza, Hope, Jemma and me. We tried it, and then that’s about it. We went on one audition and we had a call back. A record company was interested, but, yes there is a but, the dude who made the call was going on a trip and said would call us back. Of course there was no call back. So back to today, Hope is going nuts for a good studio that is reasonably priced. It didn’t hit me till I was sitting at my desk and wondering what was going on with my recording. I called Hope and told her about who I’m working with now and I can ask if he would like to work with her. His name is Angelo, and he’s in a band with his own studio and produces. Who else would I recommend than the person I’m working with? I called Angelo and told him all about Hope, he was definitely interested so I emailed Hope.


C: k I spoke with Angelo he said he gets off at work at 5 will give me acall around 8:30 and will pick us up to go to the studio

H: cool so it's definite????We can drive there also.....if it'sbetter...whatever if he wants to drive be my guest!

C: yeah he lives somewhere near us.

H: So it's definite tonight or he'll let us know at 8 30?????

C: he made it seem it was def. he was going to go home and take a napand call me at 8:30. If he doesn't call by 8:45 I'll call him.

H: ok....is he like Mipenza...says they will call and thenaren't???lol...I just have many things to do...I hope it's definitethat'sall....okei dookie

C: I don't think he is if is I'll kick him

H: LOL....MISS YA....I SEE YOU'RE IN GOOD SPIRITS TODAY...I'M GLAD...HOPETOMORROW YOU'LL FEEL LIKE THAT TOO =)

C: really that sounds like I'm in good spirits? LOL It's just me being me.

H: WELL....WETHER YOU KNOW IT OR NOT...YOU DO HAVE GOOD SPRITITS AND YOUTRANSMIT THAT ENERGY TO MANY PEOPLE WHEN YOU MAKE THEM LAUGH AND SMILE (WHICHYOU DO OFTEN)...SO IT SEEMS LIKE YOU ARE DOWN A LOT BUT YOU ALSO ARE NOT! =)

C: I LOVE U JELLY FISH.

H: =)....IT'S WET SEAL TO YOU MISS!!!!!!LMAO LMAO WHAT WAS UR AGAIN?

C: was it Mongoloid?

H: LOL...NO THAT WAS JEMMA!!!!....I CAN'T REMEBER FOR THE LIFE OF ME WHAT URSWAS

C: no it was me that she called Mongoloid. Call Mipenza, I'll call her nowand find out.

I called Mipenza, and she wasn’t at work, I called her at home and she sounded like a horse.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“Yeah I have a fever”

“Well how high is it?”

“It was 104 the other day and the day after it went to 103 to 102 to101 now.”

“Eww that sucks, you should take something like Tylenol and drink a lot of water”

“I did, I took advil and I’ve been drinking water.”

“No, Tylenol will help the fever not Advil. Tylenol is better”

So I told her about the names, she couldn’t remember. I told her that I need to ask Jemma she might know.

C: she doesn't remember I'm calling Jemma now.

I called Jemma and she answered abruptly.

“Hello, who’s this?”

“Hey it’s me, what are you doing?”

“I’m driving to work 90 mph, can I call you back?”

“Sure, ok, be careful, love you.”

“Love you too”


C: How did that whole situation happen again? I sort of forgot, weren'twe coming to pick you up and Jemma got upset and called me mongoloidand when you got in the car you were laughing and slapping your handsso hard I said you sound like a Wet Seal? Is that what happened whatwas Mipenza's name??

H: Y DID JEMMA GET UPSET THAT U WERE PICKING ME UP?

C: I don't remember, I don't even know if that was the situation. Idon't know if that's where we came up calling each other all thosenames. Boop. How do you remember it? This was years ago. I'm luckyI remember what I said to you the email before this. What did I sayagain? Ok don't answer that.

C: Angelo just called, he can't make tonight. He's sick.

So that was it, the thrusting pelvic dance was a waste of time, we weren’t’ going to the studio. I go home.

I was walking off the train and it was Jemma, we spoke and she laughed while I told her how I think she came up with her calling me Mongoloid. We haven’t seen each other in a long time. We exchanged our “I miss you” and planned on having dinner next Thursday with the girls. Now I have to call all the girls and make plans for next Thursday. So all this, and it ended up the old group getting back together for dinner like the good old days.

"Your Thingy Is Open"

Isa pokes her head over her cubicle and asked me “Are you going to the studio?

And as she was asking me I slowly walk over to Umay’s cubicle which is right next to Isa’s thrusting my pelvis singing “Stu Stu Studio oh ohhhhhhh, yeah I’m going.”

I turned to look to see if the man in the office right by our cubicle was watching, thank goodness he wasn’t. Umay turns to me and says “YOUR THINGY IS OPEN!” I almost fell to the ground from laughing so hard. I was walking around the office with my zipper open and to top it off, I was thrusting my pelvis. I needed that laugh, as the blood rushed to my head.

Geoffrey The Giraffe

Nothing to do, but prank Geoffrey The Giraffe. Isa and I decided to prank someone. I thought who else but Geoffrey The Giraffe, since he likes pulling pranks himself. I told Isa to do it because he wouldn’t recognize her voice.

“Okay, you talk though.”

“No way, I’ll laugh through the whole thing.”

“He’ll know it’s me. You do it.”

All that and it ended up being me. Isa calls me on my line and I started practicing all these different voices.

“Hello”

“No no don’t say it like that.”

“Hello Geoff, hi this is Nina…”

“No not like that.”

“I can’t I’m going to mess this up, Hello Geoff...”

“Yeah that’s good, ok now call him.”

I conference in GTG dialing *67.

“Hello?”

“Um hello, umm is this Geoff?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Ummm you probably won’t remember me, but we met at Strata.”

“STRATA?”

“Yeah the day before Thanksgiving.”

“Oh yeah I was pretty blasted that night.”

“Yeah I know, you gave me your number and said I can call you when ever I wanted to.”

He was listening so intensely.

“Umm so I was just wondering if you would like to go with me to my Winter formal.”

He screamed out “WHHHHHHAATTTTT?”

“Yeah, my Winter formal, I was wondering if you would like to come with me.”

“WHHHHAT??”

Isa started to laugh and I laughed, Geoffrey The Giraffe got pranked ha ha ha ha. He had no idea who it was. So Isa and I revealed ourselves. GTG started telling us how he didn't know what was going on.

“I was like who the hell is Nina? I don’t know any Nina. Then I heard the laughing and I had a feeling something wasn’t right.”

Isa giggling tells GTG, “We were going to get to the mouth herpes part but we didn’t get to.”

“Yeah that would have been funny. Winter formal isn’t that funny Geoff?”

Then Geoff and I babbled over bullshit.

I Stopped...

I took a muscle relaxer last night. I took it at 11pm right before “With Out A Trace” came on. I only took the muscle relaxer to help rid the pain. On New Year ’s Day at 12:02am I called my father to wish him a Happy New Year and a Happy Birthday. I had bent forward just a bit to dial the number and when I straightened up I felt a bit of pain in my lower back, thinking it was no big deal. I conference my sister in and when I turned the pain got worse. I hung up and couldn’t move. I was home for the entire weekend, (except my visit to the cemetery) trying to recuperate. The intense pain grew from my lower back and worked its way to my neck. I hated every minute of it. So Monday night, which was last night, I was still in pain. That, my friend, is why I surrendered to a muscle relaxer. Hoping that this time it will actually help. I've been prescribed pain killers and all sorts of great candy and they never worked. I was hoping this wasn't going to be one of those moments.

I actually thought I was starting to fall asleep. As I was lying in my bed with my eyes closed trying not to convince myself not to open them to look at the clock, an odd thing happened. This isn’t the first time that it happened, though I don’t understand what it is. I opened up my eyes in fear. I STOPPED BREATHING. Well that’s what it felt like. It woke me right up, I couldn’t fall back to sleep.

It was hard to get up this morning. I was tired as fuck and I had no choice but to get up for work. With no surprise, my pain was still there. I feel so damn weary. Now I don’t know if it’s because I’m not feeling well or if it’s the weather that is making me feel this way or if it’s the pill.

Was I really falling asleep or did I stop breathing? I will never know.

Is This How It Starts???

Why is it that, I always tend to pick the wrong seat to sit in on the damn train? Because, that’s the way my life is. Either it’s to tight, but who the hell wants to stand?, or sit across from someone who give you nasty stares as if you just killed their dog. Today, I sit and I sit next to the person who either had way too many beans or some animal died in their stomach. No one but the person who farted knows who did it. The sucky part is, it’s always the person next to me and people probably think it's me. It was some Chinese dude. I just wanted to bitch slap him. I woke up this morning nauseous as hell, but I had to get up, I don’t have any sick days till tomorrow. So here I am sitting next to this farting asshole and all I wanted to do was to throw up in his lap. I was wishing he would get off on an early stop, but this mofo was on for my whole ride. Is this how my New Year starts going to work?? Cha Fai??

Hidden Message

I wrote this fictional story for my friend for a school project. I wrote the story as through the eyes of Mussolini's wife Rachele.

I was standing at the foot of my bed watching myself sleep. As fast as the breeze blew in my room from the still night, I was sitting up on my bed. My breath escaped me with one deep breath taken in, and it was gone. Something was buried in my chest; it felt like someone threw his hard fist right under my voice box and reached deep down to my heart. I went deaf as silence conquered my screams. I couldn’t help myself. No one was there. I was lying there drowning in my own blood. I ran over to my body holding myself; watching myself die. In an instant the morning sun blinded me as my eyes opened and I found myself lying on the chilled floor. Slowly rising from the ground I gripped onto the ledge of the window to pull myself up. The window was shut for no breeze to come in. Turning to face my bed the blood had disappeared. I was able to breathe again. “What happened?” I asked myself. The dizziness brought me back to my bed. Mystified with the horror I faced, I could find no explanation of where it came from or what it meant. The trance that kept me under was haunting. It was illusive to my mind but so real in my unconscious world that I could only keep it to myself.

“Signora Rachele,” I didn’t recognize her voice, “please let me help you with your bags, you shouldn’t be carrying such heavy things.” I thanked her wondering who she was, though I was very well known in town I wasn’t surprised she knew my name. I had Benito to blame for that. “When are you due? September? Can I touch?” She couldn’t stop smiling as she reached to feel my pregnant belly. At first I didn’t want this stranger to touch me nor to speak to me, but in some awkward way there was something familiar about her. I had no choice as she rubbed my belly. “The child that you are carrying is a girl, she will have many siblings, three brothers and then her wish for a sister will come true.” She kissed my cheeks and grabbed some bags and walked a bit ahead of me leading me to my home. I didn’t think she should be helping me with my bags, I didn’t think she had the strength. The lines in her face showed many years of stories but her eyes were so young. Her voice carried angelically and eased me. Her soft hand made my baby move and the warmth settled my heart. She was a beautiful elderly woman; there was nothing to fear of her. She placed the bags on my table and told me not to be afraid of what I see when I close my eyes. She walked out so quickly I couldn’t catch up with her to ask her how she knew. By the time I got to the door she was gone. I stepped on a white rose that was on my front door step. I couldn’t recall seeing it there when I got home. When I picked it up it opened its petals and intoxicated me with its innocent scent. I brought it inside and put it in a vase next to my bed hoping it would show me pleasant things when I closed my eyes.

The summer days were over and the brisk wind had touched my shoulder. It felt good. The air smelled so fresh and then the pain just came out of nowhere. My legs were bathed in warmth. I gripped onto my belly not knowing what to do. I started to scream, “HELP, someone help me. My baby…my baby…my baby.” My mother Anna had guided me to my bed. She rang up the doctor. The pain was intense. This was the birth of my first child and I was holding on for dear life. I was afraid thinking, “How will I survive this?” Then all of a sudden it was silent and the room went dark. I had been awakened by the cries of an angel. It was that day, September 1, 1910 when my daughter Edda was born. My first child, my baby girl; she was so beautiful.

A year had passed and Edda, had recently began walking. She cried for her father when he was taken away for “leading a manifestation against the Italo-Turkish war”. I knew it wasn’t his first incarceration, nor would it be his last. The war had killed many people and killed the heart of those who mourned over the dead. My husband had aspirations of invigorating our nation. People praised him and his interest in fascism grew.

I remember one night, it was late and Edda wouldn’t stop crying. I cradled her and whispered weary pleadings, “Please Edda, stop crying and go to sleep for mommy. I promise daddy will be home soon. Everything is going to be fine, just close your eyes and think about the beautiful day we are going to have in the morning.” My exhaustion was overpowering me and although she was still crying, I had to lay her down again. The moment I put my head on the pillow I couldn’t hear Edda’s cries anymore. Slumber had hit me hard and I could no longer fight to stay awake. She was kissing me on my lips. I tried to push her away but I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her back. I remember her touching me and I had gotten aroused. She had walked away bare and suddenly stopped to look over her shoulder. She said that no one would ever know. The light from the moon had glared off my mirror and casted a glow over her body. She had faded out slowly and then disappeared. I couldn’t understand what had happened. I found my husband’s journal in my bed with the words “PLEASE BELIEVE ME FOR I WILL SHOW, AND YOU WILL KNOW.” I opened my eyes and all that was next to me was a white rose.

The radio was on and the announcer spoke words of destruction. I’ll never forget that day it was June 28th 1914. His voice just went right through my body, “‘the heir to the throne of Austro-Hungarian Empire, in Sarajevo, Bosnia Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated today. Austria-Hungary declares war on Serbia’” (Summary Timeline: 1914, 2004). Edda was almost 4 when it happened and I was struck with fear. This summer was not going to be a pleasant one. “On August 1st there was an outbreak of war. Germany declares war on Russia and only two days later declares war on France. As days came by Germany invades neutral Belgium and Britain declares war on Germany”. Soon more of Europe joined the battle. It was the beginning of World War I.

A year passed and millions of people were dying for their country. My dress had been stained as it dragged on the floor. There was 3 inches of snow on the ground and I had no care, it was one the happiest days of my life. “It was December 17th when Benito and I finally exchanged our vows in a civil ceremony”. My life seemed perfect. I had my beautiful daughter and my husband. That night we made love and I told him how I wanted our family to grow. He wanted the same thing but he didn’t think it was a good idea now with the war. He had fallen asleep before I had and for a long time, I watched him sleep. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Finally slumber came. Someone just spit in my face, right in the eye. I couldn’t see who it was for my eyes had been sewn shut. I had felt my blood rushing to my head; my arms were hanging over me. People were spitting and shouting obscenities at me. I begged them to stop and told them it wasn’t me who had hurt them. I wasn’t alone; there were four other people next to me. My ankles were burning the rope was too tight. In a flash, things had turned around and I was amongst the crowd shouting and spitting at the body. I saw myself hanging there; the anger inside me was on fire. I couldn’t stand to look at myself and the people hanging next to me. The woman that was hung next to me turned my stomach I just wanted to rip her head off! She was dead along side my lifeless body and the bodies of the other three men. Something touched my tongue and woke me. It left a nauseating taste in my mouth. There was blood coming from my nose. I ran into the bathroom to wash my face. When I looked up into the mirror to see if it was all gone there was a reflection of a woman behind me. She said, “I will never leave your side.” I turned around but no one was there. I swore I was going crazy. I turned back to look at my husband, and was overcome with the strong scent of roses. I took my place next to him and as I reached for him I saw a pedal from a white rose on my pillow.

The days came and went in a blur but the nightmares, I could never forget. I tried to ignore them but the more I did the more horrific they became. Benito, engulfed in his political conquests, was rarely home. We still, however, found time to enjoy each other. In the following few years, we conceived 4 more children. Vittorio was born in 1916. He looked just like his father, as did Bruno, his younger brother, who was born in 1918. Five years later Romano was born. My family was complete two years later when Anna Maria, my second daughter and the last of my children, was born. We got the family we wanted but in the years to come, we would suffer such immeasurable tragedies.

World War II had come. On "June 10, 1940 Italy entered WWII as a German ally." Fourteen days later "armistice between Italy and France was signed.” News of the war was everywhere and when it seemed like things couldn’t get any worse, "Italy attacked Greece on October 28th”. Italy was doomed; I could feel it in my heart. Depression dominated me. The nightmares kept haunting me. This time it wasn't me I saw suffering, it was my son Bruno. I heard him screaming for me. I woke up and realized he wasn’t here. He was in the military and I knew that I must have been dreaming to hear him scream. I knew something was wrong. I cried myself back to sleep, back to my horrible nightmare. I saw him boarding an airplane, fastening his seat belt and preparing for takeoff. I tried to stop him but I was helpless. There was nothing I could do. Then there was an explosion which erupted me out of my dream. A few days later my nightmare was all over the news. “On August 7, 1941 Bruno, eighteen…, was killed when a new bomber he was testing crashed near Pisa. There was an engine failure soon after takeoff. Two crewmen survived, but Bruno did not”.

Benito aged as each moment passed, Bruno's death was paying a toll on him. It was three years after the loss of our son and we were still scarred. Scarred for life. “After the Allied occupation of southern Italy, the King ordered him to be arrested in order to sign the armistice”. "Benito was rescued from prison by the Germans, and was allowed to seek revenge against those who voted against him. Among those killed was his son-in-law, Count Galeazzo Ciano, my daughter Edda’s husband, who had participated in Benito’s overthrow”. Edda was distraught after losing her brother and now her husband. It was all this fighting, the evil of these wars had destroyed my family. We could not be looked at anymore. We were not safe.

“By early 1945, most of the country was liberated”. It was the end of the fascist regime and the people of Italy wanted my husband persecuted. This was the beginning of the end. My husband left and never returned, he was on the run. Running away to save his own life. He left me behind with our children. What was I supposed to do? I didn’t know how to keep my children safe; I didn’t know what the people would do. I struggled and I couldn’t stop trembling inside. I didn’t trust anyone; it was hard for me to sleep. I needed to keep my eyes open at all times. One night something came over me, I had no control over it. The radio somehow turned itself on, full blast, I was pleading with a woman to leave me and save herself. It was the woman I had seen before in my mirror, she looked at me and told me, “We can’t run anymore, there’s nothing we can do. No one will save us this time.” I slapped her leaving a bruise on her right cheek. She kept telling me how much she loved me but I was too angry to tell her how I felt about her. It wasn’t the time. Someone had arrived to take us to safety. Without warning the woman who helped me with my bags reappeared. She was standing there holding a bouquet of white roses. I tried to get near her but the men who were to save me, were suddenly pointing their guns. She blew me a kiss goodbye and threw the roses at my feet. When I looked back up at her she was crying and held her hand out for me. This other woman who was my lover, jumped in front of me and grabbed my arm; she wouldn’t let go. I didn’t understand what was happening until I was one of the men aiming at me. In a morbidly calm voice, what was to be the last words I’d utter, I heard myself tell the gunman, “Shoot me in the chest”.

I had seen the bullet being discharged from the barrel of the gun and I thought for sure I was dead but then the doorbell rang and I was awoken. I opened the door and found an envelope waiting there for me. It was a letter from my husband. In it he wrote:
Here I am, at the last stage of my life, at the last page of my book. We two may never meet again, and that is why I am writing and sending you this letter. I ask your forgiveness for all the harm I have unwittingly done you. But you know that you are the only woman whom I have ever really loved. I swear it before God; I swear it before our Bruno in this supreme moment…
He advised me to head for the Swiss border with the two youngest children and start a new life. If the Swiss should refuse my entry, he told me to surrender to the Allies.

Take care of Anna and Romano, especially Anna who needs it so badly. You know how I love them. Bruno in heaven will help you. My dearest love to you and the children.

I never heard from my husband again, it was true, it was the last page of his book. I missed him so much. I understood why he wanted my forgiveness, but the reason for his asking hurt. I needed to take a walk but I didn’t know where to go. I had my hand on the doorknob undecided. The doorknob turns on it’s own and opens. It was her again. “Signora Rachele, may I come in?” I invited her in and watched every move she made. She asked me “have you been paying attention to your dreams all these years? You know they are very important to remember. You will understand them very soon. Bruno is here with you; he has never left your side. He is the one who kept you strong. Keep your head up and face everything and everyone. You won’t be able to see what is coming if you are looking down. I must go now, it’s time.” She got up and walked herself out. Why didn’t she ever let me walk with her? When the door closed the radio again turned on by itself. Was I having another dream or was this really happening? The announcer mentioned my husband’s name. I got closer to hear the news. Benito had been shot. I started to scream, “Oh my… he’s been shot… my husband is dead.” Then he announced a woman named Claretta Petacci was shot dead at the side of my husband. I was being tortured, not only did I lose my husband but I lost him while he was with another woman. I was his wife and she was his mistress. I felt weak; knives were stabbing me in the heart. I began screaming again, “ROT IN HELL CLARA!!! If you weren’t dead now I would kill you myself. The anger just kept building inside me; I turned into a wild woman. I started to rip things off the wall, throw chairs across the room, and I broke every mirror in the house. I grabbed his clothes and threw them in the garbage. I stopped. I looked around. I cried. I still loved him but I was so angry with him. I was supposed to be at his side in his last hours, not some dirty whore. Again, I cried.

It was the next morning April 29th 1945, the newspapers were buzzing with the stories of Benito’s death. “All of the bodies, including my husband and Petacci’s, were loaded in a moving van and taken to Milan to be dumped in Piazalle Loreto, the square where the Nazis had earlier executed fifteen hostages. My husband, Petacci and four others were hung by their heels from the girder of an abandoned gas station”. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. All those dreams, it wasn’t my fate I was seeing. It was my husband’s. I was looking through my Benito’s eyes. “All through the day, in a raw display of hatred, men and women jeered and spat on the mutilated bodies. The square became so crowded at one point that it was hard to move…In the evening, with the square almost empty, Allied soldiers removed the bodies”. I was having déjà vu. I found out that the dream of me with that woman was really my husband and Clara when they were caught trying to flee and the partisans where the one’s who took them out and killed them.

I was turned away at the Swiss border. “I surrendered in tears to the partisans in Como, but after a few days in jail, I was released to my family and my memories”. When I returned home I looked through every single one of his journals, trying to find something to help me understand why he had shamed me. Word around town was that he was never faithful and that he had many affairs with many women. I kept searching and searching to see if he wrote about them. Benito had kept many journals documenting his life, his beliefs and his fears. I had stacked them on my lap and as I read one, another slipped to the floor. I reached for the book and there was a picture. It was her. The elderly woman. What was her picture doing in his book? Who was she? I flipped the photo over and saw something hand written. “Benito, my loving son, keep writing and help others gain knowledge through your insight. You are a great teacher and one day you will find true love. Keep her close. – Mamma Rosa” The hidden message in my dreams. I couldn’t believe it. Then I saw his handwriting on the bottom. “Mamma you will always be my white rose. – Benito Mussolini”.

MY PHOTOGRAPHY