Tag: History

Meditation 320 ~Virgil’s Plan B Crisis~

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I don’t want to be like my father. A provider, yes. Not one telling their son to man up, grow a pair, or mistake anger for courage. B III had huge cojones. 2-V has none. And mine? Well, between OF and my boys’ stepmom… Oh! Virgil’s Plan B Crisis

Saturday, May 17, 2025

Meditation 320 ~Virgil’s Plan B Crisis~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Or if I was, I’d have the balls to be a jerk. Braxton was for free.

Lady Lunalesca, I love my boy like pancakes. But I can call him a jerk. B III had balls, Lu. Virgil is annoying as all Hell. But his balls have nothing to do with me. He’d already been snipped before I met him. Does that thought make me cry. Nope! Virgil woke me up around three in the morning with that panicky run of his. It can be infuriating, Lunalesca.

But why am I talking about dog balls today? Why not focus on mine, if anything? And we will. I have more than enough crises, calamities, and criminality. Lunalesca? Boys?

Always and forever, my boys. I never had a plan for life without Braxton. And what will I do with Virgil? Keep waiting, wanting, walking.

And what about my boys’ stepmom? We went from texting every couple of weeks to trading writing every day. And then, on Thursday, May 15, 2025, as the song goes, I’m all “You Make My Dreams” come true. And I haven’t heard from her since. What am I to think? It’s only been a day, but when a girl shows you a little (something, something…)

Then I’m busy wanking to reciprocate. What? I didn’t do a video. Did I mention I have an OnlyFans? So I had to show off BIG WILLIE. Eww. And that’s all she wrote, my Lady. So, “What makes me a man? Any fool could see (that you’re) more than a woman to me.” That’s what I was trying to say…

But what are Angie Stone, Robin, and Maurice Gibb saying now? That’s pretty dark. Yeah.

You’ll have to excuse me, Lady Lunalesca. It was raining cats and dogs earlier. Too bad none of them were my Braxton. Okay, what is with my “dark humor?” Since it was storming. And Virgil again was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Stop It! Anyway. I couldn’t take Virgil outside. So I listened to DJ Cara “GTA”. Let’s agree that it didn’t do me any favors. Well, other than forgetting the real crises during existence.

First, there’s the Check Engine Light. Afterward, Virgil needs to get his shots. And if somehow I can pay for that. Mourning, Mammaries, and making money. Virgil’s Plan B Crisis.

1567 Days Without B III, Day 1008 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

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The last time I had to send Virgil to Braxton’s Room was because of a storm. He’s not one to control his bladder. And he could lose his sh*t. Speaking of which, the things that I say. I miss Braxton. I love sex, I’m afraid. Virgil, I’ll B Saying

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? More than my boys? I plead the 5th. My love, I’m not that lying Trump.

I have my soft and hard limits, but may I never be as vulgar, vindictive, or vicious as those of MAGA. And yet one of my sons, Braxton, saw Trump’s end… Virgil sees Trump 2.0.

But no, I don’t want to talk about politics today, Monday, May 12, 2025. Or ever. But we have no choice in the matter. As I have no choice but to keep loving Braxton. Always.

And Virgil? I don’t love him as much as Braxton. Later V, Later Virgil as opposed to Love ya B, Love ya Braxton. And look at me crying again. It’s not only because of Braxton. Mother’s Day has been pretty HARD till now. And OH MY GOD, we’ll get to that. Only, I miss Braxton.

Would you rather listen to me cry over him love or sweat over you? Mourning or Moaning? Grieving or Grunting? Wiping my tears or Whipping my… Must I be gross?

“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.”
The Last of Us

Love, if anything, as Roger sang, “I Want To Be Your Man.” I need “Sexual Healing,” as Marvin Gaye spectacularly put it. What’s better than making Love “Between The Sheets.”

My boy isn’t the only one that can put together a playlist. But we’d have to send Braxton, Virgil, and our two-legged rugrats to bed. Especially considering who I want to be with you. Annoying? I can be that too, but at least I’m not crying anymore, but you, darling.

Well, I want to effing “Tear You Apart.” Because “You get me closer to God.”

And that’s the truth, “I Wanna Eff You.” But not only because I love you more than anything. (Braxton looks down on me from Heaven). I don’t have alternative facts; I have ADDITIONAL facts. Effing MAGA! Anyway, my love, I’m afraid. Yes, I’m worried, but it’s FEAR, my love. And it has begun to overwhelm me. But I’m “Just A Man.” A man provides, protects, and pets puppies. But Braxton isn’t here anymore. And a man isn’t supposed to call on a woman for help, but who else is there. My Ma? Anyone at all?

Love, I don’t know what to do. WHATEVER IT TAKES! I sound like one of my motivations, or Captain America. So what’s next. I have Virgil. Virgil, I’ll B Saying.

1563 Days Without B III, Day 1004 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 313 ~Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots~

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I have too many ideas. The dream I had about The Last of Us. The disgusting energy shot. No! It could be all the dames in the book “Vector.” Or my disturbing writing. War Story, Dark Erotica, Uh? Not V or B’s fault. Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots.

Saturday, May 10, 2025

Meditation 313 ~Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Well, if I were before Braxton died, I would have given my firstborn all the credit.

What about Virgil? I’ve spared him much of the madness I gave Braxton. A thought?

Dogs age so much quicker because humans can be taxing creatures. It would explain why Virgil usually sleeps between my silence, sloth, and gluttony. Gluttony?

Until next payday, I’m “Livin’ On A Prayer.” More like pizza rolls, a rotisserie chicken, and sacks of peanuts and jelly beans. A weird combination, I know, dear Lady Lunalesca.

But let me ignore my “empty” belly and speak more about my Overfilled head. “Vector.” Yesterday, I was talking about how I started Michael Dalton’s novel. A professor has a roll in the hay with college girls, colleagues, and other collected women, some harem fanfare. Then there’s his cat, Hemingway.

Am I writing a book report? No! But it’s Saturday, and I can do what I want. Can’t I? If that were the case, I’d do unspeakable things to Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. Stop calling M Anime that! But she said or instead wrote something.

I now call that something “Boss’s Bullet, Seed, and Sacrifice.” It made me lose it. Yesterday, I failed when I read about her and Boss. M Anime’s and Cherry’s Yabbos.

Lunalesca, why not focus on today? Again, my brain is stuffed. And my hairy sack. Seriously, gross; I know, my lady. Anyway, “Vector.” When the professor talks to his cat. WWE Backlash is today. I’ve got an outline waiting. I’m the “Last of My Kind.”

Did I mention I’m angry that I forgot to buy The Long Walk by Stephen King? I have been watching the movie trailer repeatedly. And while I should stop thinking about M Anime sharing my bed, I should stop believing that every time I leave it, I am preparing for The Long Walk or I’m in; I just don’t have the sense to stop walking.

But there are worse things. Like my stories? Didn’t I tell M Anime I would start on Chapter Nineteen of “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” Only I plotted Chapter Four of “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” Today, I’m deciding between “sampling” the Kuroinu anime series or M Anime’s Associate and Boss. (Homer Drool). I can’t tell Virgil anything, Lunalesca. Seriously.

M Anime, Myself, My boys, anyone. Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots

1560 Days Without B III, Day 1001 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 309 ~Virgil’s B In Language~

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I tell B I love him every day. But I don’t know about the reception on the Rainbow Bridge. I tell V, “Later.” I tell him I’ll be back and that he’s staying. I rescued him. And they’re potential stepmom. What I said to her. Virgil’s B In Language

Tuesday, May 6, 2025

Meditation 309 ~Virgil’s B In Language~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But as Snow Patrol sings, “Those three words are said too much. They’re not enough.”

How do I know? Despite how much my Old Man paid my way, I hate him. My firstborn son, Braxton, died. And I could say it to my secondborn son, Virgil. But I hate lying.

Always and forever, there’s you, my love. There is the family we created together. And you know me, a beast with a beat. “Havin’ my baby. What a lovely way of sayin’ how much you love me.” That’s all you because I highly doubt Braxton would send me such a song. If he were here today, his four little legs would run circles around his two-legged siblings to keep them safe. Virgil would be quieter than them, easy. Long story.

Love can be quiet or loud. It’s a difficult language.

And since I’m reminiscing about people, places, and even pieces of myself I hate. LEARN.

I’m constantly having to relearn how to love myself. Love, I am The Walking Dead. However, I’m not saying that because today is Sunday, May 4, 2025. So we both know, um, Tuesday, May 6, 2025, is going to suck. Oh, we’ll get to the sucking. Uh, ew. Uh, lovers.

Watch my mouth? Again, we’ll get to that. I say the most horrible things, and we’re not a religious household. But love, Jesus had it easy. If we skip the torture, he just died, love.

My Ma would say he died to save us. And I live? Not because I particularly care to do so. That’s my love language. STAYING.

Again, from a biblical context, Jesus came back. God is love. Dog is love, and my B III, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” as The Killers put it. However, “My Goddess.”

Um. Did we put the kids to bed four-legged, two-legged, and all? Okay, dearest love.

Purely in a Shakespearean meets The Pretty Reckless type of way, “You make me wanna die.” Hear me out, my love. My grief brings me closer to my son, B. Not really, but that’s what I’m going with. Being with you brings me closer in a way to dying. Seriously? Neither of us is Rihanna, but “Sex with Me,” sex with you, I tell myself, “I guess I die another day.” Virgil’s B In Language.

“I think I’ll find another way
There’s so much more to know
I guess I’ll die another day
It’s not my time to go

For every sin, I’ll have to pay
I’ve come to work, I’ve come to play
I think I’ll find another way
It’s not my time to go.”
Die Another Day

1556 Days Without B III, Day 997 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 306 ~That’ll B Elysium, Virgil~

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I’m sure Virgil was asking this morning, Where are we going, Dad? From one end of the street to the other and back again. And as far as writing… Did M Anime have another “nightmare?” Reading and writing in a warm bed. Lazy? That’ll B Elysium, Virgil.

Saturday, May 3, 2025

Meditation 306 ~That’ll B Elysium, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… But the last time I checked, treadmills didn’t cost that much. Neither did grassy potty spots.

I’m surprised my boys don’t hate me. Braxton crossed the rainbow bridge. And rests in Elysium or someplace. And Virgil, at the moment, is content to be warm and dry. It’s what you get when you wake up on time and decide to take a walk in the rain. A$$hole?

Seriously, Lady Lunalesca, “It’s me, hi. I’m the problem, it’s me.” As I said, I woke up on time, but I’m still running somewhat late. What have I done, “living life like a bum” like I am, Luna? I finished “Backyard Dungeon 16” and started “Into The Wild Shadow Work Journal.” The sign of a good woman is that she makes you want to do better. B and V’s stepmom.

Lunalesca, that’s not M Anime.

And it definitely wasn’t how I thought about building a paradise with her yesterday. I talk a lot about wanting a family, and that would be my two boys. It would be Braxton’s favorite girl, who is like my sister… Uh, she’s better… And what about the two people paying the majority of my bills? My Olds. I’m a forty-year-old man. And I’d rather not think about it. Dear Lu.

I’m not crying. Let’s say that this is only leftover rain from when I took V outside, and I think for a moment, even he forgot about it. No people, no nothing. That’s bliss. Nothingness.

“I want everything, or nothing at all,” as Goodfellaz sang. Life or death, victory or defeat, Lunalesca. It’s the in-between…

It’s remembering how I was/am a good father to Braxton and trying to replicate that. Only there’s this little thing called mourning STANDING in the way. B III’s song choices.

“I wish I could say the right words
To lead you through this land
Wish I could play the father
And take you by the hand
Wish I could stay here
But now I understand
I am standing in the way.”
― Rupert Edmund Giles

There are those moments when I’m reading or fiddling with the phone when I forget everything. I can be Jacob, Eddie, or Cole in many different harems. The hero. Honestly, what game am I playing next? But then it ends, and I’m right back here. And I wonder what this place is. Like I said Friday, I was rewriting in the buff, M Anime’s Nightmare.

Cries Come Women, Come Country… Her “Hell” I want to make into a paradise. Luna?

No one can go there. There’s here and now. Poor Virgil. That’ll B Elysium, Virgil.

1553 Days Without B III, Day 994 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

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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 299 ~That’s The B-word Virgil~

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I’m not singing “Bye Bye Love” because of my sons. My B’s memory and his little brother V’s life. But how can we afford to keep our bellies full, keep breathing, and be at all? Life’s a B, or I’m busy jerking to one. Ew! “That’s The B-word, Virgil.”

Saturday, April 26, 2025

Meditation 299 ~That’s The B-word Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… I wish! At this rate, I would settle for a few hundred bucks. Or B III.

Suppose my firstborn son were here. My Braxton. I want to say I’d do anything for him. As Bryan Adams sang, I would tell Braxton, “I would fight for you. I lie for you. Walk the wire for you. Yeah, I’d die for you.” If he were here, he would only ask me to be “The BEST Man I Can Be.” His father? I have his little brother Virgil lying right here. My little Virgil. My love for “them” is beyond words, Dear Lady Lunalesca.

Without the big bucks, how am I going to save us? How the mighty have fallen! Who am I kidding, Lady Lunalesca? I have never been mighty. But I’ve gone from thinking, if I had enough money, I could have found a way to save Braxton to keeping Virgil cool.

Bums lack that type of power. Well, this BUM, anyway. I’ve seen plenty of people who love their fur buddies. And here I am trying to keep myself and Virgil from living under a bridge, my lady. And if Virgil wasn’t here, I would find a bridge and I’d… Follow my B III on his.

Braxton sent Virgil to be a bridge to this life. A barrier to keep me from following him in death. And a beacon to the man I once was. A father. In case you ever wonder how Virgil got his name. But I’m not Dante. He only went to Hell. But I’m alive. And my biggest fear (for the moment) is being a BUM or “a creep. I’m a weirdo.” I trust you enough to share these fears with you.

OMG, am I right? Better I should drool over Rei Ayanami or Kallen Stadtfeld, Lunalesca. What? Is writing about Cherry’s Yabbos or M Anime’s bedtime terrors still not paying the bills? Based on the Day Job schedule I got last night, I had better do something. I got zero hours for one week. Didn’t I say I’ve been wasting valuable paid sick leave for what?

Not to be “Balls Deep In Love” with Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. First, Ew. Second, do I love her? Uh… We met through writing but never IRL, so… Third, I have to stop calling M Anime that. And focus on writing “Cries Come Women, Come Country” or any book. Erotica? Because I Never Can Say Goodbye. That’s The B-word, Virgil.

1546 Days Without B III, Day 987 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

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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 292 ~The B’s Hurt Virgil~

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Sitting in “my car” stuck in traffic, hoping I could get a $5 Meal Deal. Fear was riding shotgun. Grief was massaging my shoulders… Where Braxton once sat. And Rage asked, “Are we there yet?” Bereaved, Butt Hurt, but to be Brave? The B’s Hurt Virgil.

Saturday, April 19, 2025

Meditation 292 ~The B’s Hurt Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Eff me! I wish that were a true story this very second. But life’s a bully.

Bereaved, it isn’t a b*tch. Amongst other things, such as the death of my son, Braxton. I think this is the first time I’ve shed a tear for him this week. Or is it the fact my eyes need the lubrication? I’ve taken Virgil for walks on the path behind the house four times, Lu.

It reminds me of good times, but the Rainbow Bridge it’s not. Lady Lunalesca, am I in such a hurry to see Braxton again? In a word… YES! As much as I fantasize about Cherry and her Mum, I beg to see M Anime’s Yabbos and start salivating over a specific model. I mentioned last week that she went private. It’s not good for her image. So, as RuPaul put it, “Supermodel, You Better Work.”

Butt hurt? Angry? Not at her, but at life in general. My God, Lady Lunalesca, this week was one for the books. Now, that’s something I’m angry about. Why the eff am I not writing books and editing. By this point, I should have had so many publications on shelves.

I could use the money. At this point, Lady Lunalesca, it’s what is scaring me the most these days: I’m broke… That, and the idea that I would wreck the car all for McDonald’s food.

“Calm down, Doctor! Now is not the time for fear. That comes later.”
— Bane (2012)

So what has brought on my fear and wrath? Honestly dear Lady Lunalesca, I could write a whole book on that. But if anything, everything that has to do with the Day Job. I can’t survive with or without it.

Be brave… Thou art courageous… Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Oh, my dear Lu. I am terrified by the end of the month or a few weeks into May. I won’t have anything.

I’m afraid that’s about as much positivity as you’ll get from me, my dear Lunalesca.

Wanting to take Ellie and Dina to bed. Revealing secrets. No! What scares me is failing to take care of my boys. And as much as I hate myself, I stay alive to look after them. I am the keeper of Braxton’s memory. And a provider for Virgil. And as I sat there yesterday afternoon with my Grief, Rage, and Fear, my bullies… And I imagined when the money runs out. The B’s Hurt Virgil

1539 Days Without B III, Day 980 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

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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