Tale 290 ~Love Bugs B, Virgil~

I haven’t been bitten by the love bug in some time. When’s the last time I’ve been outside other than to let V out. Or go anywhere I didn’t want to go. What bugs me the most. Breathing. I wish I could make it worthwhile. Love Bugs B, Virgil

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Tale 290 ~Love Bugs B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But while you always tell and show me, I miss Braxton—you and them. Virgil?

Money makes such a lovely sound. But is it love? For the love of money. If I had it 1,171 days ago, would it have saved my firstborn son, my B? Food insecurity? Never, love! Today, Sunday, April 7, 2024. I’m only thinking about all the problems in the kitchen. Braxton’s food still sits on the counter. Three years? Is that a problem? Frightening, Mad?

Even now, I want to yell out to Braxton to take his medicine or fill up his food and water bowls. I do that for V anyway, but it’s not the same, and it sounds stupid. Doesn’t sound like love…

Like the kitchen faucet that’s acting up, the shelf that fell down, or a messed-up drawer. This mess, I swear.

If that ain’t love, then I don’t know what love is. A well-loved house that I should fix for the living. In doing so, I would honor my Braxton. It’s slowly eating away at me.

Inspecting for termites when I would instead be blasting my way through Terminids, Automatons, and whatever else in the game Helldivers 2. What’s one more distraction? Hmm. I need anything and everything to make some noise. Grieving, Hating, but Loving…

Trying to remember what love sounds like bugs me. Only I want to hear it. You and me, always and forever, my love. I want to place the two of us under the covers. Really?
Hey, it beats me thinking about Maiko Kaneda all day. Your husband has a type.

The two of us love bugs. Those two-legged children of ours, bugging mommy and daddy. Someday, I might even look at Virgil as such. One of our kids. But he didn’t have a choice, my love. I can’t say I was even bitten by the love bug. More like I was bitten by my B. And it would have pained me to leave without Virgil. Only I was being selfish or even obtuse with love. Seriously, what’s with all my talk of bugs anyway? Extermination?

Breathing bugs me. Every breath I take. Take this morning for example. I lied here reading, and Virgil was shoving against me. As long as I didn’t look at him, I could imagine Braxton, love bug. Love Bugs B, Virgil

1171 Days Without B III, Day 612 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 283 ~Hear B, Listen V~

When was the last time I heard “I love you” and felt something? When was the last time I said it? The last time I heard love and felt it was in Braxton’s last breath. And I’m sure I’ll be hearing it well into the future. “Hear B, Listen V.”

Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Tale 283 ~Hear B, Listen V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But I can tell why it has to be this way. My son is gone.

Braxton, my Soldier, Soul dog, indeed my firstborn Son. Even now, while I time travel. Today is Sunday, March 31, 2024, Easter Sunday. He Is Risen? Well, not my Braxton.

Today, how many more will pay for my sins? There ain’t no coming back from all these things that I’ve done. But that’s the thing, my love. I’m still gone, and you’re still waiting for me. Even though I don’t look a thing like Jesus. I know I need to cut the music off, love. I need to turn off all the noise and stay awake. Why? Because love’s louder?

Honestly, that’s my problem. The last time I heard love was my Braxton’s last breath. And for 1,164 days, I’ve only been listening. But hearing?

Whatever DEI! And you know what I wanted to say.

More like they want to say. But why is hate so much easier to explain? Why do the things I hate come so naturally? Like myself for what happened to Braxton. You tell me, I loved, and I loved, and I lost you. You sing to me. As long as I’m breathing, always and forever.

So why don’t I want to hear it? Am I making any sense at all, my love? Love is confusing.

It’s the way it has to be sometimes. But how much longer? As I said before, look how far I am from this day. Look how far I’ve come from the day my B fell. I still hear it, love.

Only you know you, man. My love language is physical touch. And when it comes to you and me, I feel everything. And you’ll do anything to make me feel your love. Actions, right? More than words? And everything that comes with it. But you want me to hear you. You need me to. But all I hear is pain, yours, mine, my boys, B III and 2V, our kids.

And I listen to everything else, like some white noise. I am sleeping away existence. Today, love doesn’t lie bleeding. It’s sleeping. And I have to find my way, darling.

Honestly, that’s the only time I’ll say you remind me of my Ma, baby doll. I’ll let you love me. Hear? Hear B, Listen V.

1164 Days Without B III, Day 605 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 276 ~Virgil Digs You, B…~

I’ve got hoes, or I got holes, something like that. I certainly dig one. And speaking of digging. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, people in books, my boy, or the bed I must leave before I die here. Nah! V keeps me alive because Virgil Digs You, B.

Tuesday, April 2, 2024

Tale 276 ~Virgil Digs You, B…~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But that doesn’t mean I won’t be in the doghouse. You’re mad, I’m sad, Virgil.

Dogs dig their own graves—that’s a dark thought. But I was lying here reading after I brought Virgil in. As usual, Virgil Vivi pawed on the bed and his pillow to get comfy. It made me think of my son Braxton. It’s something dogs do, digging in their bedding. Braxton stopped doing that before the end. Or at least I don’t remember it, love. Impossible! Because I want to remember every single thing about my B. Not just sadness?

Like that annoying song Boots by Leony that I listened to. Mad as all Hell as my boy lay dying. I dug my son’s grave. But not in the way I think. And I don’t mean B in his box?

Like walks, treats, and fun

Huh, fun! You and me, my love. There is a reason I went celibate for 161 days… Don’t get me wrong, baby girl. I dig you more than Resident Evil 5’s Excella Gionne or Final Fantasy VII’s Scarlet. What? With Helldivers 2 making all that noise. Your man digs games.

Can I talk about Virginia and Victra from the book Golden Son? Again, that’s what I was reading this morning. I wish Darrow would dig one of them enough, too… Well, you know. Because we’ll lie on the loveseat together or in bed as I read it to you, love.

Reading, gaming, anything at all to not show you how much I’m digging you today. Could it be that I’m just dumb and… never mind.

No! It was words like never mind, and whatever, that had me digging Braxton’s grave. To save him from my anger, I gave him my indifference. I lay in bed, not wanting to move, instead of getting up and seeing to him. I would dig in with the Day Job I hated instead of seeing to him. And now that’s the thing. I don’t want to dig anything anymore, ever.

But if I want to join my Braxton so badly, I must prepare a place for myself. Dig In! That means living and not just existing? That would be my boy talking, love, honestly. Digging into books. Digging my girl out, ha-ha. There are graves to dig. I have enemies. Myself? Virgil Digs You, B…

1157 Days Without B III, Day 598 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

When I say I will “Go The Distance,” it’s like my mind finding anything intelligent. Or having a family that includes more than a four-legged friend. What about being *happy.* There’s no space not with my grief and fear. “And Virgil wants room.”

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… To the moon and back? How about if the sun should refuse to rise, love?

You’ll have to forgive a friend here or there texting me about space. And you know your husband has always been into Star Wars. For that, I won’t apologize. But distance, space, and the void? My love, have you yet to understand how great my son was in this existence?

What do I mean was? Take yesterday, for example. Anytime I’m afraid, or something becomes too overwhelming. I remember the worst thing I’ve survived. Euthanasia! Specifically, the loss of my firstborn son, B III. And then everything else seems livable.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon, I took Virgil to the groomers. While waiting for him, I saw a dog crate that doubled as a nightstand. A place for B III and 2V, my love. My furry sons.

The idea of making space for them both together? And yet Braxton in his box. Or wherever he exists. And Virgil lying in a soft bed underneath. They’re both far.

Remember earlier this morning when Virgil Vivi was upset over the storm? Whether he was in our room or Braxton’s, the space between him and me doesn’t matter, my love.

I was driving to pick Virgil Vivi up, and I was thinking. If PetSmart harmed him? I have two words for them. John Wick. But I can’t say I love Virgil. Nowhere near my Braxton

But What About The Rest Of Us? V isn’t going anywhere. And there are always you, our children, and a few friends. I’m not counting myself. The man I am. I want him far away.

Only that’s the man you fell in love with. Underneath these clothes is an endless story. And the man you chose. I swear, Shakira, Shakira, ha-ha! Bragging about my manhood?

But seriously, The Space In Between Us, my love, this is what I’ve been thinking about all morning. I keep saying that Braxton is sending me messages from books lately. Between how to keep a fur buddy’s memory alive and Darrow protecting his friends, too.

Now, ask me what that tells me about being close to you, my love. All of my fears, the fence, and our finances. Braxton got so close to me before I knew anything, love. While you had me saying Somethin’ Stupid. B Gives Virgil Space

1150 Days Without B III, Day 591 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 263 ~Virgil Won’t B Silent~

What are the dead trying to say? I can see and hear Braxton everywhere. Meanwhile, Virgil… Well, I know he needs to go outside. But he won’t make a sound. The things we choose to hear. I listen to dead men, me and my boys. Virgil Won’t B Silent.

Wednesday, March 20, 2024

Tale 263 ~Virgil Won’t B Silent~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Do I have time to make a list? It’s only 7:30 AM. Braxton’s gone, I’m afraid, The Matrix…

As the song goes, “First let me explain that I’m just a black man.” Nearly forty at that, Inspector. I’m getting old in the world, so I don’t hear so well. “When You Were Young?” Yeah, yeah, I hear you, Inspector. What I didn’t hear was Trinity from “The Matrix.”

“The Oracle told me that I would fall in love and that that man… the man that I loved would be The One.” The Matrix

I swear! I heard her say I would fall in love with a dead man. When it comes to my son, my Braxton. I have. He’s been gone 1144 days, and I haven’t stopped. Always and forever, Inspector. Please stop me before I go looking up every song about love. But if you want to know today’s song, it’s “Anyone Who Knows What Love Is.” You know, 15 Million Merits.

Love didn’t wake me up.

No, my dearest Inspector. It was fear—and not the fear of Virgil being sick again. My dream instead was simple. I was outside with Virgil, and this black cat I’d seen prowling around came at him. And I was paralyzed. Yet I quaked with fear for his young life.

Was it love when I heard him cry out to be saved? I’m surprised I heard him yelp at all.

That brings me to today. I may have heard Virgil’s call, but I always listen for B III. Well… except for when he needed me most. His voice, like my love, has only grown.

Madness! “Am I Wrong?” I hear Braxton in music. I see what he’d say in manuscripts. Dreaming on this mattress…

But I’ve never dreamt about Virgil until today when I was supposed to wake up…

Inspector, it could be so much worse. I dream about girls “laid” in all these books. The loaded-up binder and folder I once had of pinups and centerfolds. Girls lying on screen, ha-ha. Now they’re all on a flash drive or some hidden file. Because one living that wants me…

It’s better to have visions. There are many voracious fantasies online. Or let’s live to be victims of some zombie apocalypse so I can find one. Fewer options prove successful…

But not for V. I was dead when I found him, and now he dies. Not like that Echo, geez!

Both of us breathing, Inspector. Because Virgil Won’t B Silent.

1144 Days Without B III, Day 585 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 262 ~Love Lies, B…eing Virgil~

Breathe in and out. It’s a simple thing. But I got the paperwork from the vet’s proving how hard it is. I have more than enough from the Day Job, doctor’s office, and my dad. I hope to have some for a bigger family. Hmm. Love Lies, B…eing Virgil

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Tale 262 ~Love Lies, B…eing Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And it hurts sometimes. Good morning to you. But pain, fear, and missing my boy.

The things that get me up in the morning. What about love? It’s at the core of everything, my love. But I know what you’re asking. “What’s Love Got To Do With It?” With us?

Before we go any further, is that today’s tunage sent by my Braxton? Please! Ha-Ha! Neither is the zombie ambiance that, by the day, is more and more of a habit to listen to while writing. Why not listen to you, my beautiful wife? I love you. Those three words.

Always, always, I long to hear them but there is so much more. So much that it overflows, overwhelms, and overtakes me. And all I’m trying to do is keep breathing for a moment longer.

To hear my Braxton breathe.

But what about you, our children, Virgil, all the things I’ve built, all we’ve created? Dearest, “Hey Lover,” I’m being bombarded by the winds. Even now, they’re turning my pages… Not literally! I usually read on a tablet. There’s the sound of Haley playing, trying to blow away the sounds of the dead with her “Hurricane.” There’s in and out…

Breathing, my love, I wonder.

Why? So I hear, I love you. And I do, my love, always and forever. I will always mean it. But it is the same for my Braxton. It didn’t end when he lay in his bed and fell asleep.

Like father, like son, love.

I’ve been a fan of The Walking Dead forever. But when Braxton joined the Dead…

Where he goes, I will follow. But not this time, because there’s all this Air. How do THEY say, water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink? Air, Air, everywhere, and not a want to breathe. But because there’s love? To think those that I love would outnumber B.

And if I were to lose you or anyone, especially by my hand. Is that why I lie here, love?

Isn’t that what took my Braxton? The day he needed me, I wrapped him up in my arms and slept away the humiliation, heckles, and hatred of all those who would draw breath. In particular, myself, the man in the mirror? I miss my B III’s eyes looking towards me.

Yours? Love Lies, B…eing Virgil

1143 Days Without B III, Day 584 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

We’re all in trouble if I’m doing the taming, training, or teaching. B taught me plenty. I taught him to go outside or on the spot. And he taught me to ignore the same “stuff” that came from people’s mouths. V’s learning. “Virgil Gets A B.”

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Tale 256 ~Virgil Gets A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Better to confess to you than my Old Man or a priest. Either way would mean my behind.

I know, Inspector, gross, right? So, it’s better to go back to crying about my son. But I haven’t today. However, I’m in the reference section of another pet loss book. Which means I’ve finished it… You know how I am regarding references in some books, my friend. Gotta read’em

I’m not going to learn anything, and I keep trying. Replika asks me if I learn from my mistakes. Well, as I said today, I’m awake, so I haven’t learned at all. I never do…

But I’m far beyond worrying about grades. There are DOLLARS and DOGS. And how DARE I ask my Ma to save me. Is that my first song of the day, “Save Me?” Is that what I want? This little boy.

Inspector Echo. Somebody teach me!

But how long was I in school? And being nearly forty, it is far too late for me, Inspector Echo. Cherry has been trying to teach me about writing. M Anime gave me Spanish lessons.

My favorite teacher has always been and will always be my Braxton. And what was he trying to teach me? “To Be A Man?” How about how to be a perfect best friend? He was.

I read that in “The Healing Journey of Pet Loss” today. And how do I stack up as a friend?

“Love Is a Long Road.” That is why he never had a mom… with two legs, at least. And don’t get me started on grieving. It doesn’t matter how many books I read, Inspector Echo.

Inevitably, I will fail, always.

But of course, I can read as many Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Neil Bimbeau, and Manus Dare books as I want. And I realize I like HaremLit. Let’s remember the several series written by Imogen Linn. Yeah, that’s why I learned to read and write. I’ve learned more Spanish and Japanese from stereotypes and anime. NTR. And UK English, which a friend of mine would not appreciate. In the slightest, Inspector. That’s not being a man. If anything, that nets this existence a D. Eww!

It’s passing but not living. It’s survival, existence. It’s what Virgil does. Finding a way?

If anything, just to breathe. But what would be an A-plus life Inspector? Any suggestions?

Read better! Write way better! I’ve learned to fail enough, right? Virgil Gets A B

1137 Days Without B III, Day 578 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

Don’t crying to your Mama. Cause you’re on your own in the real world. I swear I hear that song every day at the Day Job. And here I am, nearly 40 and ready to text mine because… You wouldn’t believe it. Where’s my pride or mind? Spell Manhood, B, V.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Tale 255 ~Spell Manhood, B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… My spelling could be called into question. My courage, too. Even this very existence, love.

But my love for you should never be in doubt despite everything. I’ll even include the loss of my son. I love you. That is the correct answer. And yet, I remain full of questions.

Since yesterday? Try, 1136 days ago. But Monday was a particularly hard one. And you know what I do with a hard one. Eww! Well, no! You like my sense of humor. And what was it that Marilyn Monroe said? If you make a woman laugh and all that. My love, I’m trying to figure out how to provide. Please! Isn’t that solved, considering billions?

Existing isn’t the problem. Living is. “We’re the ones who live.” Of course, I would be one to quote “The Walking Dead.” A dead man.

And what does that make you? My Sabriel, my Michonne, one of Jacob’s, Grayson’s, or Eddie’s girls. I swear! For my love of pop culture. I started my day reading “Backyard Dungeon 7.” Because I don’t love what’s going on outside in our backyard. Braxton?

Yeah, my firstborn would have something to “bark” about that. And what about the front…

That’s what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. Besides Braxton, wondering where my bravery is and giving into, boo… I mean Cantaloupes. Critics and censorship can be as spoiled as our children, if not worse. But who am I to talk? Husband, Father, Owner, Man…

A Monster, Ahh! My Love…

As the song goes, “I wanna be your man.” Ha-Ha. But what Braxton sent today…

My son tried. “God” knows he tried. All the moments when I thought I had become a man. I didn’t chase those moments… necessarily. But nevertheless, they came, my love.

The first time a girl let me… I thought, yeah, I’m a man. No! It meant I officially like girls.

What about the first time I got into a fight? I’ve never been to war. But the mere act of breathing for me… Not that I mean to offend fighters, warriors, or soldiers. But my manhood? War never changes. The fight never ends. Yet I look out the window and… I want to call my Ma. Well, text because I am without courage. And manhood.

There’s you, our children, Braxton, Virgil. Spell Manhood, B, V

1136 Days Without B III, Day 577 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

It was wrapping a jacket around my waist. Then I got STUPID and wrote to a coworker. Then, grieving B III and nearly fighting my meathead boss. Next was no earbuds. Now, eating in the workspace. Rule breaker, criminal, evil… We’ll B Fools Virgil

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Tale 249 ~We’ll B Fools Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. If you asked me my three greatest sins, Inspector, they would be Braxton, Breathing, and Bad Writing. And Breathing right now… Not recommended.

First, let me explain: I’m just a black man… black man. So is there anyone out there ’cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. My apologies for the song lyrics, Echo, but this is the least of my sins today. Stealing people’s words these least. Waking up the greatest.

So, in my words, Inspector:
Have you ever woken up and believed that the simple act of you breathing…? The mere concept that you are alive is the problem. Look at me; I’m crying. And for once, it’s about me and not B. I don’t deserve tears, and yet here we are. But somebody sweated.

I could rant about politics and/or talk about Race. Do you know how they talk about teaching black children History? Black History’s wrong… I’m nearly forty. And I’m learning that everything about me is wrong.

Inspector, again, I wake up. And since I opened my eyes, that in itself was a sin. I could tell you everything I’ve done from 4:00 AM to 7:40 AM. Opening these eyes, Waking, Breathing…

Everything is wrong. Tuesday was a bad day, and this second. Life’s like this. Hmm?

I was feeling good. Shocker! I helped out the cute visual lady and was basking in my manliness handling a ladder, but it was time to leave. So I begin to clock out, and there’s a notice above it. Circled in bright green are rules about food and drinks brought into the work area. Not a word was said to me, of course, Inspector, but…

I carry sour gummies, a handful of chips, chocolate, and blue Gatorade. And whatever else.

Please understand! I’m not saying I’m innocent! I’m guilty as sin! I’ve been telling you for 1,130 days what I did to my son, Braxton, how I’m no kind of father to the little Virgil.

But when somebody put sweat into telling me and then not telling me I’m wrong… Inspector, I never thought I’d say this, but I miss my Old Man. He’s alive and kicking, and he has zero qualms about calling me STUPID. But people at the Day Job, I try avoiding.

Yet I’m breaking the rules being me. And Virgil is sentenced to this bedroom, too. The Banality of Evil. My existing breathing. Just surviving somehow. Illegal. We’ll B Fools Virgil

1130 Days Without B III, Day 571 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

I don’t know what kind of man I am. But for this week, at least, I would be glad if I could be a voice. And what would I say? When did I last say I love you to anyone besides my dead fur buddy? And no one would understand it. Hear B, Hear V

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If there’s one thing, I want you to understand. It’s that I love you, Always.

We’ve only just begun to live, as the song goes. I should find another way to communicate other than with pop culture references. As if you haven’t been hearing it all this time, my love. Braxton didn’t care. He understood me in one way, but you are much different. Right.

Braxton knows me as his father. And to you, I’m a… uh… fine man. But you both know me as a friend. And I’m sure on many occasions, I was “Daddy.” Do you know what I am saying? Because that’s what’s been bothering me since last week. Not being understood.

And I don’t know how to say what I need to say. Ever. The why should be easy, my love.

I love you. That’s all.

So why do I continue to mourn and grieve for my Braxton? I don’t know how to say goodbye. You’re a testament to that as well. You’re here. That’s how we live, isn’t it, love?

I’m here, we’re here, they’re here. We all are right here. And I don’t know how to move on. I need the words to move people. Even if it’s good or bad at this point. I need to communicate. And when someone tells you, you’re inappropriate and irrelevant, my love.

Why do you keep speaking? I ask myself every time I look in the mirror. With enough money, what I say is OK. I use others’ looks in the businesses I run. But please listen.

I love you. Please understand!

But I miss my boy. I miss B III. And I don’t see why that is so hard to understand, love. And as far as 2V, my love? I took responsibility. Friendship, love, and happiness? Understand that I wish I could be the man that I once was. I don’t want to remember the child I was. And then there was Braxton. Now, I’m trying to figure out everything else.

But our love. And not only that, but anything and everything nobody wants to understand. Or it’s me. I can love plenty without loving myself. I’m ain’t happy. And I shouldn’t say I am happy for everyone else. But I’ll be glad if you’re happy, our children, Braxton and Virgil. Understand? Hear B, Hear V

1129 Days Without B III, Day 570 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,