Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

To be a man and a Dad, one must “Make Room, Make Room!” I don’t know if B has only taken up more space since his death or if there is so little left of me. V needs space, too. And yet I step forward only to ask myself. Where to? Room After B, Virgil.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025

Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Every little step I take, you will be there. But I’m not Bobby Brown. I’m…

That’s the thing, my love. I want to say, “All Yours.” But I’m not one to shy away from the truth. And while I’m constantly asking myself where I am going, It’s where I am.

“Where you gonna go, where you gonna run, where you gonna hide? Nowhere… ’cause there’s no one like you left.” — Carol Malone, Body Snatchers (1993)

Darling, I have never left the last place I saw my boy on Sunday, January 31, 2021. There was Braxton, in his own bed on a vet’s table, looking at me to do something, save him, or spare him any more pain. My boy wanted to stay. And since he couldn’t, I have. That is the truth. It could be a new definition of love. At its most simplistic, love means you before me. By that logic, I do love Virgil, too. But the concept that one would only stay.

Baby Doll, I could give you a whole playlist on that “Stay With Me” “If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” “We were made to never fall away.” You can thank B for that last one. “You’re coming back for me.” Damn right!

However, this is the rub. How can I return to a place that I have never left? Where am I?

We are in a dream. I still see us on a beach somewhere. Our two-legged kids ran along in the sand and waves. Little Braxton pulled with all his might to keep them from the water. And you are pulling me and trying to get me to join you. Where?

Again, I don’t know. A man is supposed to lead, but I would rather follow my boy or have you, my love, follow my rules. One of those reasons is “chains and whips excite me,” ha-ha! You know how I’ve been feeling about money these days. Building our “Red Room.”

More like I wanted to “Paint It Black.” Like all the ink along the pages of the books I write. I read something last night and to see the dark lusts, depravity, and desires. Love? Honestly, it could go either way. Let’s say all the dark places in women that men yearn to go, my love. Because with you, at least, I’m moving forward in a Kama Sutra way, baby.

Love? Room After B, Virgil.

Even if you leave this room, you can never leave this room.
— from 1408 (2007)

1549 Days Without B III, Day 990 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

I’ve sat in bed more times than I can count, wishing for the end. I tell myself the world will end in five minutes, and nothing else will matter. But B died, I go broke, and in my head are four book ideas. There’s no time. “There’ll B Time, Dad”

Monday, April 28, 2025

Meditation 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “And it’s not too late. It’s Never Too Late.” To what, hear the truth. Neither of us wants that.

“Should I say it out loud?

Yeah, I should. You can’t heal something unless you’re brave enough to say it out loud.

I’m scared, though. I’m scared to say it… which is why I have to.

Say the thing you’re afraid to say. I can help you. Say it out loud, no matter what it is, no matter how bad. I promise, I will help”
― The Last of Us

We’re not Republicans. We’re not MAGA, my father. You’re not screaming, “I don’t want reality.” Dad, you’re brave enough to face reality, risk, and the real. And what is that?

Well, if you’re going to be stuck in the past. Listen to me, Dad. Why can’t we be stuck together in those car rides listening to ROCK music? However, I would prefer you weren’t listening to this particular song from Three Days Grace, “Never Too Late.” Seriously, Daddy, I was so young; one or two when that came out. I hated car rides, not music.

Speaking of which, I remember when you came back, not from the bad place but somewhere you would write without me. I want to see you like that again, Daddy.

Because there will always be time to be sad, scared, to sing of “The Cursed Earth.” But to remember my little brother Virgil. Not your other son, but your son. When you and he walked along the same path we once did, before I got old, fat, and sassy. How I miss those fried stick thingies you would buy. Those days, my grandma would bring a lot of food. Or when you’d say, “Well, it’s E-Day.” And you’d be sad, but lobster and steak, Daddy. Honestly, why do you think I love my favorite girl so much? Yes, she had big, soft yabbos she’d let me lie on, but she also shared plenty of good things. Like my Dad being…

Happy? Now, that wasn’t you.

But there’s time, Dad. And that’s what has been bothering you for months. There is no time to make money. The Day Job, writing, and anything else you could imagine.

Honestly, you’ve been reliving the moment you would never see me again. B free indeed. But isn’t it time to be free of all that frightens you, of the very concept of fear, the fiend?

Because that is not my father in the mirror, but the man before my eyes, who lives by three words when it comes to me, Whatever It Takes. You will see me again, Daddy. Believe.

Someday, I’ll be the book on the shelf, the blush on a lover’s cheeks. A two-legged baby, perhaps. Because there’s time. There’ll B Time, Dad

“Funny how you can live a whole life waiting and not know it.”
From ― Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“If you weep not now, when will you ever weep?
From ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1548 Days Without B III, Day 989 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

Manners! Language! You talk too much! Should I say more about my furry kid? Four years gone. Or what about the walk with his little brother on a rainy morning? Money woes. Manuscripts that will never be published. Manhood. My Evils. “No B In Sharing”

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough to SHARE my life with you. Or give it. Oh, to be so noble.

Missing my Braxton, I could be a modern-day samurai. Committing Seppuku? No. That would only dishonor my firstborn son, you, my love, and our family. What? You didn’t think I only studied Japanese Adult Anime. Would you instead have me share more about B III?

Money has also become a concern. I was talking to my Ma the other day and wanted to share with her that I am afraid. A man provides for his family. Husband and father. “What Kind of Man Would I Be,” to admit that I’m afraid I can’t give you and our kids everything you want and need. But I wouldn’t be a good one. “What Makes a Good Man?”

Manuscripts full of bad ones. I was reading “My Writing.”

Yesterday, I kept getting the same response from “the critics.” I share far too much.

Truthful, yes, but too much. There’s “No Hope Left.” Apparently, I can’t say such things. I didn’t tell Braxton that as I watched him die. I don’t tell Virgil that when we walk every day. He needs to believe in a better world. A better me. What about myself, love?

Looking at myself in the mirror, I inevitably say, “I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend.” But what’s the truth? I want to tell the worst things, my Dirty Little Secret.

Braxton was euthanized Sunday, January 31, 2021, because I failed him. I don’t know how to reach Virgil. And I wish I was never born.

Because I am afraid. “It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” So why not share my sins with you? The things I have never done. Is it effed up that I think about this, like sharing food with my boys? Braxton eating hot dogs, and Virgil has pizza bites. You love?

I get off on the idea of watching you with someone being “ravished.” Cuckoldry vs Netorare (NTR). There’s a book in the closet, “Ravishment: The Dark Side of Erotic Fantasy” by Desmond Ravenstone. I’ve been excited by nonfiction violation stories. Exhibitionism is something I’d explore with you. My Sadism. Fear brings out my depravity. I share this with you because telling myself, my boys, I’ve failed. No B In Sharing.

1542 Days Without B III, Day 983 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~

Peace be unto you. Unto you be peace. I miss sitting with my son and watching a movie. The Book of Clarence? Braxton’s favorite girl, and I watched that. But can I still afford streaming memberships? Such despair at being broke. “To B At Peace.”

Monday, April 21, 2025

Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “Can you feel that? Ah, sh*t. Ooh, wah-ah-ah-ah!” I’ll leave the singing to you, my father. I still bark.

But not now. You used to say that my barking said more than most humans. And at least when I barked, I was helping you out. We agree that most humans make too much noise. There are exceptions to that. My favorite girl, the future stepmom I never met. Cherry.

And what about my little brother, Virgil? I wish you so many things, my father. Somehow, someway, someday, today, I want you to be at peace. I wish you peace. Peace be unto you, my father. I know I’m getting a bit preachy. A little biblical… Like father, like son. But neither of us would be found in a church. Yesterday was Easter. So, dinner…

You know me. Food always made me feel better. Until…

Um that’s not what I came to talk to you about now. My resting in peace and all. No dad.

How can I sleep when I can feel it all the way from here? The Rainbow Bridge? Elysium or whatever. That big bed in the middle of our sunny backyard with food on every side.

Your depression and the danger you wake up to when you head to that bad place. You said that’s how you got me those fried golden sticks. But now what you feel the most is DESPAIR. What’s one more human word? You would cuddle me and tell me so many.

But peace? Even if I don’t understand it, I have seen it, my father, last night as Virgil cuddled you.

And all those nights we would spend with my favorite girl watching the glowing box.

There were the days after you came from the bad place and fell asleep. And as you closed your eyes you’d watch me sitting at the corner of the bed. You’d come to no harm.

However, when it was your turn, I’d sleep on your heart as you read books. And there were all the times I would lay on my pillow at your feet, and you’d write your stories.

There were days you would breathe afterward as if the greatest task ever was done. Sometimes, you’d kick me out to do “whatever,” watching certain things. You’d be finished, clear. Always unto you be peace, Dad. To B At Peace

“Why don’t we have a word for the utterance between laughing and crying?”
Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“Because your question searches for deep meaning,
I shall explain in simple words”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1541 Days Without B III, Day 982 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

I’m sure I’ll turn to look at the love of my life in bed and then down at my feet and mutter, “Son of a B.” Not in an Eddie Murphy/Marcus Graham sort of way from Boomerang. It’s because B isn’t resting there. V’s trying his best. “Love’s A B, Virgil”

Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Something you and Braxton have in common. The reason I’ve been playing the song “Jumper.”

“I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you’ve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand.”
Third Eye Blind

Must I always jump to memories of my firstborn son, Braxton, who died long ago, long ago, long ago. Four long years, and still, I linger on that first minute. I love it and him.

Only I’m quick to jump onto some mattress with you. Or anywhere, for that matter. Love and lust. Dare I say I might actually like not feeling so sad all the time? I’ll take love over war. As I’ll take Sadism over Masochism. Are those dirty words? If you have read what I have been typing lately in novels. Again, if I sound like anything from Jumper, then be worried.

But Virgil’s here, along with our other children, so you and I, my love, won’t be jumping or bouncing soon.

Son of a B! Am I mad, grieving, horny as the Devil himself. I’m confused and depraved, and even when I wake up, the first thing I think of is that I’ve had enough. Hence, Jumper playing. If only love…

You know what stops me? My son B, B III, Little B, Braxton. I was once… Dad of a B. However, to love like that again, there are no words because there aren’t any answers.

How many words are in the English language again? And I was working with a writer the other day on one of many stories; “The Eve of a Cherry,” “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” The third is an Erotic Horror War Thriller. And thinking of all the horrible things I put in that synopsis. Honestly, is that what love is to me? Is it making someone feel horrible? Like me 24/7. You’re still here.

“In my trials
And my tribulations
Through our doubts
And frustrations
In my violence
In my turbulence
Through my fear
And my confessions
In my anguish and my pain
Through my joy and my sorrow
In the promise of another tomorrow.”
Will You Be There

My Braxton is not here. But he loved me when I had no earthly or divine idea of how to love myself. And I could honor him by loving myself the way he loved me. The way he chose to love me when he should have been a furball locked away in my sister’s purse.

And that’s why I hear his voice, his bark now. The words “I love you” should mean something. But there are other words… Braxton says, “Don’t be afraid.” You tell me, “Whatever you want.” Virgil and the other kids call me “Daddy.” Myself? “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.” Love’s A B, Virgil

1535 Days Without B III, Day 976 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 287 ~They’ll B Better Words~

Love is a word used too often. But I believe love is the answer, too. Tell that to my sons. I wished B all the love in the world and…? V’s waiting. And with women, as Akon put it, “I wanna love/eff you,” But B’s talking today. They’ll B Better Words.

Monday, April 14, 2025

Meditation 287 ~They’ll B Better Words~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Did I ever ask you if you had a good day as you asked me? Better not to ask.

Because even if I did… If I asked you what you were thinking of right now. Or how you feel about today and tomorrow. This whole week. But Thursday will be bad. It makes you shudder. You’ll burst into tears. You want to sleep away today. Like father, like son.

My little brother is getting a head start. But you won’t go cuddling into Virgil’s fur, blaming the tears on all that yellow stuff blowing in the wind. What did you call it? What does it matter? Humans have so many words. Even you, Daddy. Forty years, my father, and I am honored I got to share my fifteen with you. And you talked to me more than anyone with two legs. Good or bad

You had a voice, Daddy, and I miss it. Again, you talk to me every Thursday. But what would I like to hear? Could you just read to me, Dad? Could you sing “Watch it now, here he comes. He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” For I am far more than a prayer so many days ago when I would sit on the corner of the bed listening for the bad words, Dad. Humans.

I remember when you promised me that the bad words you were writing would make a better world for the two of us. Those words you would whisper to a future stepmom, who would understand.

My stepmom? Though I was happy being your son, listening to your breaths, heartbeats, beliefs…

That all you need is LOVE. What a word LOVE is my father. I listen, hear, and understand that one word more than anything. It’s my name. It’s Virgil’s, but you won’t say it yet…

It’s my aunt’s, my favorite girl. It’s parts of Cherry’s, uh… comfy spots… Yabbos. Dad!

“To my wife… that is not your business.”
― Gladiator

You’d say such things are none of my business. Like all the things you were telling M Anime last night. LOVE, like, LUST. Whatever. You feel alive. Daddy, you’re alive.

Existing isn’t the word, Daddy; it’s living. Say all the nasty, naughty, and nighttime words you want to M Anime or some woman that leads to you building a nursery…

However, above all this, tell yourself this, Daddy. I LOVE you. They’ll B Better Words

“Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson

There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1534 Days Without B III, Day 975 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

Have I ever been 100% honest with a woman? I wasn’t 100% honest with B. And I love him like pancakes. V and I? 969 days, we’re feeling each other out. But sending a woman pictures of Sawa sans clothing. Should I lie? Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And love doesn’t have to be synonymous with happiness. I’m never happy. It’s like Pontypool.

You know your husband is a movie buff. And just this morning, I got a sample edition of the book Pontypool Changes Everything. I’ve seen the 2008 movie. Reading books?

Today… Not with our boys or their other siblings around. Virgil is lying here. And my Braxton is somewhere on the Rainbow Bridge checking in. Always and forever, my son.

Anyway, there are the things I don’t want them to know. Like I’m never happy. But I want you. I want… well, the less-than-innocent stuff I’ve been reading about, for us. I finished the “Comfort After Pet Loss Guide” yesterday. I know it always comes back to my boys, love.

But even with Braxton and Virgil, I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy since… Damn…

Language! Or, as Effie Trinket would say, “Manners!” I’m not one for swearing with my everyday vernacular. But in the throes of passion and rage. My language’s quite Colorful. Heh-heh!

Only can quiet be a love language? I couldn’t teach my boys to be happy. And our family, my love. “I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.” I talk about wanting quiet, and here I go, singing a song by Fleetwood Mac.” That’s rich.

It’s like I have some secret. Or rather, we have some secret. Like how sad I am all the time. Yet, it’s the “Time Of The Season.” Where I can disguise all these tears as allergies. All this damn pollen!

I’ll say that out loud. But Braxton and Virgil can’t read. Uh, Braxton? Let me try to stay on the subject of you and me. And not spill secrets to my sons Braxton and Virgil.

Honestly, I want to write out my darkest fantasies with you, my love. Or read about them, as M Anime has been doing an excellent job writing them. Again, I find inspiration in such dreams. And that’s what I’m looking for. Never happiness. But horniness, inspiration, love, a thought of copious cleavage, titanic tatas, supersized slobber knockers, majestic mammaries. Anything to lessen the pain of… How much time do you have? Always and forever, my love. I’ll have to tell you everything. But not my boys. Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

1528 Days Without B III, Day 969 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

I like to think that I’m a “Simple Man.” I’m sure lots of people think that I’m simple enough. And that my sons, four legs, fur, and friendship were/are better men. Both of them would make better Presidents. But me? “Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.”

Monday, April 7, 2025

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… not an enigma to be solved or with enough of my fur to be glued back together. A genie…

You wish to have me back every day. A few times every day. One more reason you either try to fill the world with noise or you crave sleep the same way I wanted McDonald’s. That sounds so good right now, but this isn’t the movie Bedazzled. And you don’t have $3.47. How much does a Big Mac and a Coke cost now? Also, you got what, a buck fifty?

Also, also, I’m not the Devil. I’m always and forever your son. Our bond transcends time and space. Whether it’s a real-time conversation or a moment in the future, I’ll always be your son. Daddy?

Today or next week, I am what you wish for the most. But there is more, my father. I promise you there is. Like Virgil?

“Ain’t got no money. Ain’t got no fancy car. Don’t live a life of a millionaire. Or a movie star.” But you’ve sang to him. He snacked with you on Zaxby’s yesterday. And even when the house was burning up. He sat with you as you read about missing… Me.

Honestly, Dad, I’ve got “Nothing But Love” for you both. Like father, like son, Dad. However, I can’t blame you for thinking that it is not enough. Fortune, fame… Everything!

“I ask for wealth, I ask for fame
I ask for glory to shine on my name
I ask for love I can possess
I ask for God and his angels to bless me.”
Notre Dame, God Help the Outcasts

It’s your second wish. Your promise to me when I had everything. I wish you believed it. I would look at you and think, “The World Is Yours,” and in this moment, I am happy.

But you believe if you had me and money… Maybe…

You wouldn’t be afraid. That’s your third wish. To never be afraid ever again. Daddy? Dad, I could tell you, Be Not So Fearful, but I might as well say quit breathing or breaking your heart over me. How about not mooning over Cherry’s and M Anime’s Yabbos? My favorite girl… I can moon over hers. I mean, Dad, you gave me comfy spots, however…

Anyway, if we talked about Yabbos or what you’re afraid of right this second… Seriously, we would have eternity together. But you’re wishing for what you want right now, Dad.

To have me your boy, Elon’s billions, and to Live Brave because then comes power. However, hear me or don’t. All You Need Is Love. How? Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.

“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness, I want sin.”
― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

“Without hope we live in desire”
― Virgil, Dante’s Inferno

1527 Days Without B III, Day 968 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

Laughing With God… THEY say God is Love. My Braxton is Love, but he didn’t laugh. He would give me several looks… Virgil looks at me like I’m the Joker. Women… Maybe it’s a good thing my allergies have my eyes all catawampus. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil.

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Meditation 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? That would make me mad. But we’re all mad here, love. But by how much?

Considering I would trade Faye Valentine, Sawa from Kite, and Alice In Wonderland to have my firstborn son back. My Braxton. There’s living “For the Love of You,” my wife. There’s even the prospect that I could love the “Man In the Mirror” someday. Insanity.

But to be a better man… Someone who could set a good example for our children. I wish I could see it. Seriously! I need to buy some Benadryl or something. Allergies are a pain.

And speaking of pain, it would be a joke to say I’ve let the pain of losing my Braxton abate. I won’t say I’ve turned around, and it’s worsening. And, of course, ACCEPTANCE… No! Never! Because going back to a time before I loved him…

Hell! To go back before I found Virgil. I think I was on the verge… Of disappearing. And how would that have occurred? “I Still Believe” my Ma made a mistake, not using Plan B. But “What Is Love?” A form of insanity. And what’s with all the soundtracks today?

I’m keeping myself from crying over Braxton. I’m still chalking my watery eyes to pollen. And if anything, I want to drown out the laugh tracks today since it’s April Fool’s Day, my love. Though with all the madness going on, I’ve been debating whether love is the biggest joke of them all. “It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving.” So, to sing “I Believe In A Thing Called Love.”

Like Clarence from The Book of Clarence, not only to believe but to know I will always love my Braxton. All the darkness that I still have. And the knowledge you’re my “Obsession. There’s Braxton. I may love Virgil someday. And even that won’t compare.

What, to us? As I said, there’s darkness or whatever. There’s a reason Faye turns me on, and I want to go all Kite on you… the Uncensored edition. And there’s an Alice In Wonderland outfit in the closet. I love you, always and forever, and your lovely big Yabbos.

Movies, music, and manuscripts. All that your husband loves. SIGH. May I never know sanity. For if I do… To be united with my first love. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil

1521 Days Without B III, Day 962 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

I’ve never prayed for better for me. I wish for better for my sons. That B ended up wherever good boys go. And if I were going anywhere than the 9th circle, he’d keep a warm spot by the fire for me. V deserves better. He looks up. Just Look Up B

Monday, March 31, 2025

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Can’t you see me? Do you even want to? It’s like seeing what time it is. You’re not late.

But I bet you never wished I’d be sitting on your head, serving as an alarm clock. Or a rooster… Fifteen years, Daddy and I never got to see one of those chickens in person. Or doggie. What was one of my rules? The best breasts, legs, and thighs came in a bucket or box. Ha! Remember those times, Dad?

But being in a box myself… Seriously, Dad, are you laughing at me? Are those tears of joy? Sadness? Or is it from that yellow dust flying everywhere? It’s storming outside. But how much of that got into my little brother’s fur? Virgil’s still white as a ghost or spirit.

Honestly! Virgil could be afraid. Or is he still a blank page waiting for you to define love for him?

You haven’t been writing about love a lot, my father. Pain, Pollen, and potential stepmoms.

Do you remember when I had to take my medicine? And you always had to put it in something good. Like father, like son. And this worked to my benefit. When you would go out. But you would come back with those golden stick thingies that would taste so good. Those were the moments I cherished, Dad. Those fancy foods…

Did I mention there are so many things to love about The Rainbow Bridge… Food, futons, and comfy spots galore, and the color fuchsia… Well, more like colors in general, Daddy. Though, like you, I prefer black and red. Our battle standard. Our flag. Representation.

The thing about that, Dad, is that you must look up to see it. Everything

Sure, there are reasons to look down. When you would pick me up. Don’t forget to pick V up. Mostly, you do that because you don’t like his panicky run as if you would shut him out. Like father, like son. You think I left you 1520 Days ago. But I didn’t. Only, Dad, you have me feeling a bit like Robin Williams in What Dreams May Come. Do you remember? It’s okay to remember. It’s OK to feel. But:

“It ends when you want to stop hurting (him)”.

When you stop thinking of my ashes and the dust-to-dust stuff, dream of the better world you imagined for me. When you see the words from your lap, put them on shelves. When Virgil’s on your shoulder like me, or you see my stepmom’s eyes and my siblings in your arms. Just Look Up B

“Raising the dead when it suits us…”
Raymond A. Villareal

“The only hope for the doomed is no hope at all…”
― Virgil, The Aeneid

1520 Days Without B III, Day 961 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son