“This is a commune. We’re communists.” “This is a rebellion, isn’t it? I rebel” I’m a loser, so I lose. I was losing my little boy before I knew it. I lose time trying to be… A writer, a web designer? I lose my mind over boobs. V? To B Losers Virgil.
Thursday, March 30, 2023
Saga 272 ~To B Losers Virgil~
788 Days Without B III, Day 229 of Virgil’s Arrival
Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My wonderful boy, Will’s son. I’ll let the world know. My work and my woman.
So despite being in bed most of the week. And this is after the Day Job. Hell! Braxton, you would have demanded we cuddle. Well, not that Wednesday before you passed. Frightening to be in love with a dead man. Okay, so we have the movie Troy and now The Matrix. Not that I have been relaxing at all this week. Last night was… effed’ up. Braxton, I was reminded of how you were crying, and I went all Reservoir Dogs. “Say it: you’re gonna be okay! Say the goddamn words: you’re gonna be okay!” The next day B. It found you right where Virgil is now—lying beside me with no plans whatsoever. Braxton, we were/are losers. Only you didn’t mind. You didn’t know what I would do Sunday.
I cared more about my work than my goddamn son! And for once, I’m not talking about the Day Job. Last night I was working right where I am now. Then this whole place fell. I spent half the night trying to fix it. And then I called for help. Can you shut up, B? Remember, that’s what I said to you, thinking you were annoying. What came next? That’s what I ask myself every time I punch these keys or pick up the pen. What about my damn penis? When I’m afraid, I either want to pee my pants or pull them off altogether. I’m either a pathetic little boy or a pervert. Or I’m in pain because, worse thing, my boy is dead.
I lost you, Triple B. I need to back up my work. Publish your books. And be prepared for whatever this night is going to bring. So far, only the continued feeling of loss, Braxton. Didn’t I say yesterday that I was taught losing is okay? I wonder what it’s like to win for once. I’ve said it many times, I won the day you had a choice, and you jumped in the car with me. I was still a loser. But love is the prize. Not that I agree with that song at all. Braxton, I won that Sunday; you were dying, and you looked… “Daddy, let’s go home.” You didn’t lose your fight. I taught you to win. Virgil? To B Losers Virgil
Always and Forever,