“Baby, baby, baby, oh. Like, “Baby, baby, baby, no.” I don’t think I could be so “articulate” when Braxton was in my lap dying. And why am I complaining? A tummy ache, ear wax, and a few too many pills. Me and the boys… such babies. “Baby, Me, B, V.”
Tuesday, June 13, 2023
Saga 347 ~Baby, Me, B, V~
Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and besides writing books. There are my “businesses.” And possibly bending… breaking… a few laws sometimes.
Not that I have been thinking much about that these days. Now sure. I’ve been crying about Braxton a little more than usual. 863 days and counting… I’m not ashamed. Billionaires are big babies for the most part. Only it’s not my sinning, my love. It’s sickness. And we’re a week in or out… I don’t know. Every day I feel a bit better. Hmm… Like one of my “stars,” I ask. How do you want me? And everything within me says that I have to be a man: a boss, a father, a husband. I wear so many hats or heavy the head that wears the crown, whatever. My love, I’m getting the whole “Lap Pillow” trope. Again it’s my firstborn, as always. Braxton.
B would lie in my lap often enough. I was on his approved list of comfy spots. And that’s when I would call him “Baby B.” Besides, when I’d walk in the house. “Just me, Baby B.” Or I would call him “You Big Baby.” No wonder he liked lying there as I petted him. Yeah, I’m getting lost in nostalgia a bit. A time when I felt well. Because yet again, this past week… I’d be lying if I said I haven’t cried out of pain. Hurting, sickness, everything. And rather than a pillow… What kind of man am I that wants to be babied? I want to crawl into your lap for a while. Weak, weird? “Unconditional love for women, children, and dogs.”
“To Be A Man,” oh “My Love.” “My love, leave yourself behind. Beat inside me, leave you blind,” Would you sing to me? Hell! Can I hear you at all, Baby girl? Today I know I ain’t going to sleep for a bit. I’ve had my first energy shot in days (sigh). Not that I’m going to be any more of a man right now. From my stomach to my ear, and now the rest of my damn head. And did I forget all of the pills that I’ve been taking? Hmm? All I want to hear is, “Poor, sweet baby. Poor, poor, sweet, sweet baby.” Or to see my Baby B. Or feel like your man, baby. But I’m all… Baby, Me, B, V
863 Days Without B III, Day 304 of Virgil’s Arrival
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will