So late this evening. The sleep of the dead. How I wished. But no. B and V’s potential stepmom has these yabbos that make me feel like I’ve been “Locked Out of Heaven.” And “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” But I still miss Braxton. “Love Of B, Virgil”
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
Journey 315 ~Love Of B, Virgil~
Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? More than Braxton? More than his little brother Virgil? Sometimes you gotta “Bwitdaba.” The eff!
Okay, in other words, “Fly Me To The Moon,” even if we had to play Squid Game. I’ll take you “to the stars” even if we were on the Titanic. Even in these universes, love:
Breathes deeply and then begins
- Mortal Kombat
- Bible Black
- Soul Calibur
- Resident Evil
- American Beauty
I would choose my boys, my sons, and any of our two-legged children over you because that’s what a man does. It is the “Human Nature” of a father. What do I know of it?
Honestly, my love, my future is coming on. I should say our future. But I am a man lost in the past. Resurrection, Reanimation, Reincarnation. Because neither of us is very good at, well, Recovery.
“Pinch me, pinch me
‘Cause I’m still asleep
Please, God, tell me
That I’m still asleep.”
Barenaked Ladies ‧ 2000
We were arguing about that the other day. You don’t recover, you don’t rehab physically.
A true masochist. And myself? Hell, I like a good spanking, a smack to my face, and “scratches all down my back to keep me right on”. But I’m a bit for mental anguish, love.
Banged by other guys… Not you. Not really. But I do have somewhat of a cuck fetish. Though not in my story… We’ll get to that. But it’s a mock… uh, such and such. It’s role play. It’s two consenting adults playing a really bad, um, sexual encounter. And then there was me, “Dreaming With a Broken Heart” when I was born, when Braxton passed.
And then deciding “If we’re gonna be together or apart.”
That took around five months to resurrect our love. To “Justify My Love”. To dig it back up: the hurt, the pain, and the remains. You’re my Obsession, my love. Completely. With all that I am. And you know your husband. “Great merciful bloodstained gods”.
Seriously, you know me. I’m in love with a dead man. Would that be me? Who knows, my love. But more to the point, I’m in love with a dead dog; he’s a real boy that I put in the dirt—a box on the nightstand. And I want to love you like… who am I, Tillie Cole’s Raphael? Let’s say, like a zombie, I want to “Tear You Part”. Necromancy resurrects you. Be your virus. Love Of B, Virgil
1927 Days Without B III, Day 1368 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will
