Tale 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

How long have I had my Day Job? It’s close to how long I had B III. One thing he and V share. Both hated me leaving. Two things. I stopped sharing my day with B and V. Three, telling them there’d be a better life and world. B’s Two Weeks, Virgil

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Tale 201 ~B’s Two Weeks, Virgil~

1082 Days Without B III, Day 523 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you having a good week? The last two? Incoming. Time Travel is a pain.

First, there’s this fact. I’m talking to you on Sunday, January 14, 2024. And no worries, I’ve already got the 31st and 1st off. Not that you want me crying for two days straight. Honestly, Braxton, I need the fluid. But I don’t know if I’ll still be sick when you see this. Braxton, I know that was a horrible choice of words. I didn’t know what was happening in your little body this day 2021. It was giving its two-week notice of leaving. Apparently, hmm. And I should have done something, anything. But as for me, it was Gospel 201, “Legs, Breasts, There’s Always Chicken.” One of your rules, Braxton. It was one of your last lessons, and I thank you for them all.

But when you needed me to listen to you… I’m going to be saying that a lot. Hell! I hate listening to myself. All last week, I refused to listen to my body. And what about “my” bank account? I’m making today harder by not recovering in bed and looking up the past. How does one say, “Happy Death Day?” And giving an actual two-week notice, Braxton? There’s a reason I’m at the Day Job sick… I can’t afford to stop working. Again, that’s a terrible choice of words, considering next to my indifference. Working so hard. THEY killed you—the Day Job; my existence there. We’ve talked about the RAGE. But my FEAR. That’s something I was feeling way back then, as well. Always…

Only today can we talk about something better. That’s the thing, B. Two weeks notice. It’s what I didn’t have back then. And if I had known. Aren’t I supposed to be on a positive kick? Sounding off about this month? Being sick? Seeing my son die. It seems silly to pretend that everything is normal. That we gon’ be alright. Do you remember every day I’d tell people that it’s another day? Rage, Fear, and Indifference. But B III. There were never two weeks left to love. Always and forever. Braxton, I’d never leave that behind. Being your Dad, Braxton is a job I’ll never quit. Ever. But the guilt, the grief, the furry guy on the floor, little Virgil. B’s Two Weeks, Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 199 ~Boy Meets B… V~

Boy Meets World. “God Knows” I didn’t see the end of Girl Meets World. And at this rate. The Last of Us Season 2, GTA VI, or seeing one of my books out. Every day seems like a mistake, like losing or finding my boys. My dreams? “Boy Meets B… V.”

Tuesday, January 16, 2024

Tale 199 ~Boy Meets B… V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And you love me. A MISTAKE? The way I MOURN, MOUNT you, and being ME.

I didn’t dream about my son for once. But don’t worry. I’ll find a way to infuse him with this. I always do. It’s like my negativity when trying to be positive. But Braxton is love. Anyway, last night I had a dream about Boy Meets World. And yes, I watched a bit of it on Instagram. This wasn’t a “divine” intervention like Fifteen Million Merits. B III sent that, I know. I’m not letting that go. I mean, it’s years old, and oh yeah…

I’m getting off the subject again. So I dreamed of Boy Meets World and was at the Day Job. Shawn and Topanga’s wedding was getting ready to start, and I was hopelessly lost. The store grew bigger with every second.

But wait a minute… Shawn and Topanga? She married Cory. And that should have been my first clue; it was a dream. Also, the Dad from Smart Guy found me. And I still didn’t dance. I didn’t dance at B’s Aunt’s wedding either, for good reason. But not right now. So, the million-dollar question is this. What did it mean? I’m already running late today. Doing any research. It’s whatever I can pull out my… Anyway, everybody plays the fool.

We all make mistakes when it comes to something we love. So I believe. Inevitable. Pornography? Years upon years ago… When my Olds got a new computer, I wasn’t permitted to touch it. Ever! To me, it was a paperweight. Until one fine day, sigh.

As Todd from Succubus Lord would say. It’s like a child finding all the parental controls have been switched off. On that note, we’re watching our children’s screen time, correct? With what I do for a living? I don’t want them getting into that sort of stuff, legal or not, looking up things like Teen Topanga. She’s not THE Topanga. But my, I can pretend. Speaking of pretend love, Virgil is still here. I still haven’t told him I love him. And with what is coming up soon. The day that Braxton left. Virgil is not a mistake. But I should have thought it out a lot more. And then there’s me. Did you think I’d stay this way, love? Mourning? Boy Meets B… V.

1080 Days Without B III, Day 521 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

Every day was B III and Dad’s Day. Well, according to B III. But Tuesday was a sick day. Today, 2022, was The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. And on the 31st of 2021. Well, let’s not get into that. I’m trying to be positive. Not B Day Yet Virgil

Thursday, January 11, 2024

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

1075 Days Without B III, Day 516 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m looking at three years without you. And the fact that I’m still counting, Braxton.

But that’s in 20 days. Not that today’s “holiday” is any better. Today we remember… Well, it’s more like, I remember, The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. The first one was on Tuesday, January 11, 2022. So what do I do with the day? A re-creation? No way! Today, I can start by being positive. I’m sure you could see me from wherever you were yesterday. I had my pants on, thank goodness. Humans, right? Your collar, Braxton. Virgil’s lying here and still doesn’t have one of his own. Well, he does, but I don’t let him wear it. His nails would get caught. And you remember those days quite well, Little B. Nail trimming takes money. And in case you’re wondering why I’m late. I’m trying to find some money.

And here’s to thinking I would find some on OnlyFans. Trust me, Braxton, your Daddy has done much worse things to give us the bare minimum. And I don’t want to think of your granddad now. But I’m walking across the new floor he bought. I’m an ungrateful, spoiled, uh… But that wasn’t you, son, no, not at all. When you were at your best and worse, B III (sigh). So yesterday, I was at my worst. At least so far for this year. A stuffy nose, and achy body. Virgil had no clue what to do. And me? Don’t I always write for no good reason? This is my first time writing a story in a few months. The computer won’t read it. NSFW. TMI, I kept you from.

Hell! I should have written it today in honor of The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. To dream of that hot redhead from Fear The Walking Dead. And then every male gamer’s fantasy girl. But I dreamt of mutants running away last night and Josh Holloway, AKA Sawyer, looking for his pants. And then there was that girl Isabella Laughland, AKA Swift from, say it with me “Fifteen Million Merits.” If Virgil wasn’t lying right here… But no, Braxton. I’ll pass the day by seeing The Book of Clarence if I feel better. Ha. You’d always be pissed when your Aunt Carolina and I went to the movie theater. Staying “home” is always better. Oh, I will, by watching dog movies. Not, B Day Yet Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 192 ~Choice Language B, V~

How do you tell someone you love them? One day, “God Willing,” I’ll be sitting on a bench, holding Virgil when he is ancient, telling him I love him. I can’t tell myself that, but I always tell Braxton. And having a family? Choice Language B, V.

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Tale 192 ~Choice Language B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… How many times have I said those three little words? I love you, baby girl.

How about three more? Happy New Year! I’m sure I said that on the 1st, but when we chatted on the second. And since I’m traveling from the 5th, You should know? What? That my little boy Braxton is still gone? Virgil’s still scared? And no, that’s not me “trying” to be depressing. But that is what I want to talk to you about today. There’s a term for it… People call them “Love Languages.” I’d stick with “The Look of Love,” but my eyes. Yesterday, well, last Friday anyway, my eyes were all itchy. And the one time that song “Tonight I Wanna Cry” could have helped. I was in our bed suffering. Depressing. Trying to talk to you hasn’t been great. 1073 days.

I’m still counting. So, how many love languages are there. There are five that I’ve seen. And in “my” personal existence and business dealings, I’m particularly good at two. I adore physical touch. Hell! It’s the only thing that wipes my mind of everything, my love. It breaks me down to raw emotion. And not the worst ones, as usual. Him and I, ha. There I go, putting words in your mouth. That’s something else I talked about today. Yesterday? Friday? Time travel can be a trip sometimes. And I’m rushing today, my love. That leads me to receiving gifts at best. And taking care of you and our family at the bare minimum. I have mixed feelings about that.

But throwing money at family shouldn’t be all there is. The family needs more. Your everything. They deserve it. And “that’s why I’m starting with me.” At least for today. Hell! I sound like Donald Trump… Eww! Or should I continue as Michael Jackson sings. “I’ve been a victim of a selfish kind of love.” Most days, I blame my boys, Braxton and Virgil, for my lack of communication. With well… existence, life, whatever. Grieving? My love, I need to find another way. I might never achieve being everything, okay? Tobias from Divergent wanted to try being brave, selfless, intelligent, honest, and kind. Hmm. I want words, time, touch, actions, and gifts to give. I love you, the kids, my furry boys. Myself, maybe someday huh? Choice Language B, V

1073 Days Without B III, Day 514 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 187 ~B’s Book List Virgil~

The Old Man asks me if I want to get the house furnished. Do I even have $5000.00? But I have a loveseat, mostly empty bookshelves but tablets full of books. But what to read. Braxton never really cared, but I value B’s opinion. B’s Book List Virgil

Thursday, January 4, 2024

Tale 187 ~B’s Book List Virgil~

1068 Days Without B III, Day 509 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You know how “my” days usually go. I’m no good without an hour’s nap, Braxton.

Or three twenty-minute naps. But I’ve only taken two before the Day Job. Alarming. Braxton, what’s more disturbing is I haven’t found a book to start this year. What does that matter to you? Well, I’m sure you could read “my” T-shirts. Or I was great at taking pictures. I’m hoping you’re reading this wherever you are. Or is somebody reading this to you? Can you hear my voice? I’m not sure how the Rainbow Bridge works, Little B. There’s always the memory of you lying on the loveseat with me, Braxton. Today, why not ask you? I bought a “pet” book yesterday. Only I couldn’t bring myself to read it. So, am I asking your permission to read anything else? Something? I don’t know.

I’m not proud of it. Or am I? But we’re men, ain’t we? Hell! You’re a better man than me. Braxton, you were a regular Smooth Operator. Except your heart wasn’t cold. Now your nose… Anyway, you had your paws all over your aunt. And then you were down B. Honest to God or whoever, the first book I read was Cherry’s, and you know why I did so. You and I, Braxton… like father, like son. The things we do for pretty, pretty girls. Shameful. But at the same time, I’m asking for your book recommendations. I did cry today. Reading one more sad tome won’t do much harm. Harm! I killed you, Braxton. And 2022, oh, the books… Most grieving and mourning, you.

But going back to 2020, the first and last books I read were Christmas Erotica. 2021 started with a book from childhood. A Different Alchemy should have prepared me for your loss. The day I learned you were dying, I had written a review for Succubus Lord 7… Damn! That reveals why I listen to that series over and over again. By the end of 2021, it was back to Christmas Erotica. So 2023? Fifty-seven books completed, Braxton. Today, I ask, what now? Should I have another cry session about grieving fur babies? What about reading something to enrich myself? Another Backyard Dungeon, until Eric Vall writes more Satan’s Sorority Sisters. And what about “my” writing work? Reading, writing about us? B’s Book List Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

Feels like the first time? It was love at first sight. Or should I go all “Like A Virgin?” To be honest, I’m more for die another day… It would be a first if I was ever successful with … anything. I raised a good son once. “They’ll B Firsts Virgil.”

Tuesday, January 2, 2024

Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But when was the first time I felt it that it fell from my lips?

When was the first time I pulled an Akon? What I mean is (thank you, Miss Critic) is, when did the song I Wanna “F” you turn into, I Wanna Love You? I can walk and chew bubblegum at the same time. Ha-Ha! “This Is Us,” this is “Life Itself.” But there is B III.

Or not… Am I not falling into the doom and gloom on Day 2 of the new year? I’m trying.

But I’m still counting Day 1066. I can’t tell you about Day 1. The day I met my firstborn in 2005, sometime in April. Are you sick of my pop culture references? Ask the critic. Only today, or rather yesterday. I didn’t know how to feel. I still don’t know.

On Monday, all I felt was tired. A bit like now as I laid off the energy shot. There’s still time. There’s still first. But it’s incredible how you can remember some so vividly. The others… I can’t tell you about my first time making love… What was it I said about Akon. “My Love.” I was hot, horny, and in a hurry. It was more get your freak on, if anything. I know some things got better. Not the grief of losing Braxton. But being with a girl… um, you? What about the first time I fell in love? The first time I thought such a thing. Oh My Love. How about crushes? Tram-Anh Tran, AKA Tina Nguyen from Ghostwriter. Between her and Toonami, it was all about Asian culture. Then, either Elizabeth Hurley, Lynda Carter, or Carrie Fisher, it was all brunettes and/or dark hair. Mostly… But like Captain America probably told Peggy Carter, “I can do this all day” or night. Whatever

Uh, I didn’t write down what I felt after losing my son that first day. But I know the truth.

Grief, Sadness, as the song goes, Feeling super, super, super suicidal. But I stayed here—fate, destiny, who knows, my love. But I stayed because I would feel something else. Love! “I wanna be livin’ for the love of you.” I won’t lose that. It won’t be a first. Never.

But every day. With my first breath, I ask why, worry, and wonder. Our love first. They’ll B Firsts Virgil

1066 Days Without B III, Day 507 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 180 ~B Noisy, V’s Silent~

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” The perfect bible verse? But I remained silent at my Olds as did V. And B? I’m always listening for him. But do I fear the noise or silence more? B Noisy, V’s Silent

Thursday, December 28, 2023

Tale 180 ~B Noisy, V’s Silent~

1061 Days Without B III, Day 502 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As for me? I’m doing a Nikki Haley impression and remaining silent on what’s real.

The noise in this world, I swear. It was the first thing I heard about… Well, after shutting off the alarms and taking a twenty-minute nap, of course. After that, it was dropping my tablet as I finished another Christmas Erotica. There were the beeps and boops of a game.

And, oh yes, I’m checking on my account. I’d never let you starve, Braxton. But you know what I want to say… “You did that to yourself.” Which is why I’m crying right now. B. Anyway, I won’t let Virgil starve. But from the looks of what I made last week. Yeah, I’m not in the mood to eat anyway. One more noise to add to everything else. A rumbling stomach, draining bank account, uh…

A pounding head. Gross! But I do mean “my” brain. Hell! All those fans were blowing, sucking, um drying, I don’t know, whatever. They were taking on water and barely keeping all my fears at bay. And now that they’re gone. The silence Braxton… Deafening.

Again, I am reminded of you. Your bark, your breathing, the beating of your heart. The background noise of my existence. And that was the problem—my indifference to it. Virgil’s been trying. Or at least he was very cuddly last night, and I ended up pushing him away. Suppose you’re waiting to hear my excuse. Well, you’ve listened to my words the past few days. Ok, Sorry, Please, Thank You. Noises I rather you not hear. And my breathing.

“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” ― 1 Corinthians 13:13

I’ll replace one F with another. FEAR. I hear that more than anything else. B III. And it can be so loud one moment and deathly silent the next. It’s everything. Too much! It’s overflowing. Fear is the silence while waiting for the phone to ring. And then the voice on the other end. Hmm. It’s the sound of ice on the car and then the engine. Hell! It’s driving in the sun, my son. Fear is the deafness in my ear one morning and then running water. And the fact that turning on the faucet is now yet another crime that I have to answer for at some point. Fire or ice? Noise or silence? You know what I choose. B Noisy, V’s Silent

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Every day, I get asked, by a computer, mind you, what my mood is like. I’m always worried about something. Being thirty-nine… something always hurts. And since comedy comes in threes. I don’t know. It’s the day after Christmas. So, To B Moody Virgil.

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If you didn’t believe me, you would have left already. Or is it the fans?

I’m sure I’ve sang to you before, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Can you even hear me over all of the fans? What about my boy? Every hair, tear, and speck of dust over what, 1059 Days? It’s all gone “Bye Bye Love,” life, and even a specific type of lunacy. B. But that’s not true at all. Even with this being the day after Christmas. Presents? December 25 was something to remember? Well, seeing as how I’m time-traveling here, my love. I can still call you that, right? I have your love, our family. Lives that do concern me. And I’m still writing, wailing, and waiting for my son. But I don’t blame Santa Claus.
This is all my doing, love.

What? Being in a mood? And I won’t treat you like the computer and say, Worried, Pained. And the third thing is always a toss-up. I need more than Discombobulated. Unfortunately, the only word I can think of that is better itself starts with a D. I would never include you or the children. Am I including V in that? Right now, no. So AHEM, “I am The Walking Dead.” And like any zombie, I am up and about without purpose other than to make the living miserable. My friends, enemies, everyone else… And this Christmas, I give you another; I’m sorry, and you give me forgiveness. Sucks! Now that is a mood. Just like tired, scared, horny, sad, lonely, stupid, mad, effed, insane, dead…

And the only gift in a box I wanted, I gave myself. And it doesn’t even have my name, love. Braxton. Do I want to make myself out to be Pandora? I’ve been looking at Braxton’s “grave” more and more because of what rests under the drawer beneath it. Hope? Peace? Christmas is the time for that, playing the STUPIDEST Stevie Wonder tunnage “Someday At Christmas.” But lover, this is the day after, meaning it’s time to return to normal. Tuesday, yeah, right! I can still hear the fans blowing. And even with them, I can hear how I’m letting down my family. “Give love on Christmas day. No greater gift is there than love.” To be in the mood, but… To B Moody Virgil.

1059 Days Without B III, Day 500 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

With every step, I get closer to joining B III. And I won’t even blame him. You know who I want to blame. But doesn’t that make me a selfish, spoiled son at thirty-nine? Yet Virgil wants to join me and Braxton’s boys club. Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Thursday, December 21, 2023

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

1054 Days Without B III, Day 495 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were the only one I cut the BS with. Give or take your timeouts.

But I’m in no mood to even watch the sexy girls now. As the song goes, “I need you now! Do you think you can cope? You figured me out that I’m lost, and I’m hopeless.” Yes, B, it’s been a “Mad Season.” And it didn’t have to be. I could have followed you, Braxton. That’s how it always was. I had a realization about it today while being humiliated at PetSmart. Virgil Vivi has to eat. And while I’ve been fighting the urge to be with you for 1054 days. 495 of them have been keeping Virgil from following you into a box, B. Anyway, speaking of following, I hate that center aisle at Petsmart. It reminds me of your last day. Walking out…

I was a “freaking” zombie dude. You were dead, and I was “The Walking Dead.” Existence without you, Braxton… So, I figure it’s walking up that aisle that scares me. Isn’t my heart broken? It beats furiously when I’m walking up. I breathe, Braxton. Why? Because again, with the music… “You took it all, but I’m still breathing. I’m Alive!”

Braxton, it didn’t feel that way this morning. I’ve said my mornings have turned from, my son is dead, to Why is daddy still alive? Myself, your granddaddy? I had to sneak into the house, your home, mind you. So I could clean up after Virgil. Your granddad was here. Or he would be soon, and of course, coward that I am, I ran, Braxton.

Do you remember when he was here around your last year or so? All I could think was, I had to save you. And I came in, and you jumped into my arms. We stood together. I’m crying now thinking about that. Careful! I can’t get the floor wet with tears. They’re still repairing it from the last “flood.” That’s what has been the central issue these past few days.

That was me leaving Virgil here. Braxton, we were meant to fall together. Virgil though?

How do I give him a life when I don’t want my own? It’s not fair. But he tries anyway. Saturday, August 13, 2022, I heard you asking. Let him join our family, but Braxton…

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

No… Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will