For Juan V.

I love all the cooks at my work, they are all really funny and sweet and great. But Juan was my very favorite. Two days ago he was murdered. His girlfriend picked him up after work and was driving him home when someone open fired on their car. They were at a stoplight in a bad neighborhood in Richmond. Juan died at the scene. His girlfriend died later in the hospital.
I worked with him that night. The last thing he did was give me some food to take home with me since I was hungry at the end of my shift. While I was eating the food he had kindly cooked for me, he was unsuspectingly driving to his death. It breaks my heart.
I looked forward to working with him; his huge, sweet smile brightened my day. Our little flirtations made my tedious job bearable, even fun at times. We'd always wink at each other over the counter. Several days ago I drew a little picture of a heart and stuck it on his chef's coat over his heart. I can't believe that heart is not beating anymore...
He was so adorable. I had a big crush on him. We'd joke that he and I were married and one of the other young guys that worked with us was our son. I even had dreams about him. He had the most beautiful hands and the biggest, softest brown eyes. I loved watching him work; he was graceful and quick and usually laughing. My feelings made me feel vaguely guilty though because he had a live in girlfriend. Juan would always greet me with a "Hi Sexy" whenever he saw me. I made up some excuse to hug him every shift. I wish I had hugged him one last time before I went home Monday night.
He was only 25. I can't believe someone could take this beautiful, wonderful man's life so thoughtlessly. I can't believe we will never see him again. We will never have the pleasure of his smile again, never hear his silly laugh, never hear him sing in Spanish. His brother works there too. I am so sad for him. I don't even think I could look at his brother right now without completely losing my composure. I can't imagine the grief his family feels.
Everyone at work loved him. We all called him 'Juanito' as an endearment even though he was one of the biggest guys there. An air of tragedy hangs over the restaurant, the faces of all the chefs look like they are ready to crumple at any moment. Its really hard to be there.
Te estrano mucho Juanito. Te amo mi amigo.