Saga 249 ~Virgil Loves That B~

So when did I know… love? When I told him to get in the car? Standing between me and my father, fangs ready to protect me. His guard post on the corner of the bed. And how did he know? With his aunt, he knew he loved her easily. “Virgil Loves That B”

Tuesday, March 7, 2023

Saga 249 ~Virgil Loves That B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But my love, at the end of the day, “It’s my heart, and it’s broken.” Still?

No! You would never be so cruel to think it. But to love is to understand. Or at least try. Right now trying to understand why the tears are falling from my eyes. Time travel? Today’s Monday, March 6, 2023. It’s day 765 without B III. You know where I am… There’s no leaving Sunday, January 31, 2021. And yet I couldn’t tell you the day I met my firstborn. There’s no telling the day that it became Braxton and me against the world. Hmm. We could even debate his birthday. But I go with Sunday, February 13, 2005. The day Braxton died, though. I’m like Finnegan Bell from 1998’s Great Expectations, heart and all. Only from all the books I actually read. Well, love…

I’ve been trying to figure out how Braxton knows love. Again I can’t remember the happy days. Yet I remember when Triple B fell in love with his Aunt Carolina. It involved him going all Triple X, X-rated… whoa not that far. Ha-ha. She let him climb all over her. The next thing I knew, he was in love. Or he really liked her boobs. My son the dog; like father like son, ha-ha. I can’t recall when he fell for fries. Particularly McDonald’s. “Sorry, Blame It On Me.” Especially when he started getting older. And he always had that choice of going for a walk or waiting for fries. It could have been that he only wanted to be near me, always and forever.

Working the old Day Job… well, that was fucked up. Hell! I think Virgil understands how I “felt” about that place. Virgil understands? But what about love? Let’s try stairs. Anyway, Braxton didn’t love saying goodbye. Yes, more tears. To think he has that in common with Virgil. Now even with Braxton’s last day. He didn’t want to say goodbye. Those mornings imagining the former Day Job, Virgil will howl and cry for a while. Honestly, my love. Me and those boys, we don’t say goodbyes too well. Nope. Never. Only how do we say hello? I suppose I could crawl all over you. B III, and I know boobs. I could stop running away. We could sit here together, love. Virgil Loves That B

765 Days Without B III, Day 206 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

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