Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

My friend B’s Aunt is hurt. I can’t go and help. I can’t send her cash. And her helper has joined B on the Rainbow Bridge. Good help is hard to find. And the worse… MAGA, GOP, and Conservatives could learn from dogs. Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness.

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Or I will? As if that’s even a question. But today is Sunday, August 4, 2024. So sinning!

And never winning. But I’m missing my son Braxton. And what about Virgil? As long as he’s not making a mess on the floor, making me hop out of bed… That’ll be for my good.

If there is always something I admire about my son, it’s this. Every sound Braxton made was towards my benefit. Even if he was mad. My little boy said more than nearly anyone in my existence. Well, short of his Aunt and the pictures M Anime and Cherry once sent.

What was it I was saying about sin? Next to sending Braxton to his end and myself being born… E-Day draws ever closer. Admiring a nice pair of Yabbos is my kryptonite. Help yourself to my cash. Pretty, pretty girls.

But I’m still thinking about what happened to Braxton’s Aunt. And before that, her Gabe.
She got hurt, and Gabe died in his sleep. I had to watch Braxton’s euthanasia because there was nothing I could do to save him. Last year, I told 2-V I don’t know my friend.
We were burning up in this house, and I could not help us. Not to mention how much money I lost when his Old Man and his friend took me for a ride with fixing the AC, Inspector. But who am I to talk about money with everything he spends on me? Hmm. I’m ungrateful.

Pathetic, Useless, less than Helpful—my crime with existing. I can’t help anyone, but can I get out of everyone’s way, Inspector? How I try…

If Braxton and I had a theme, Woodkid’s Run Boy Run would be it. I’d tell Braxton I wanted to find a place where we wouldn’t ever be in someone’s way. That would be my way of helping the world. To be far away from it. But because Braxton was alive, I needed to stand.

That’s what a man does, Inspector. He provides, protects, procreates, ha-ha. He stands because the world needs good people. Helpful people. Braxton was a helper. A great man once said look for the helpers. Braxton saved me. He was a godsend, a savior, a dog…

Braxton was a helper, and Virgil could learn plenty. And me? I have no cash or courage, so I can’t help… Braxton and Virgil’s Helpfulness.

1284 Days Without B III, Day 725 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 036 ~Virgil, Don’t B Anxious~

Don’t be anxious but excited. When was the last time I was excited? Wrestling? Watching or with a pretty girl? With all I have to do? So much to worry about. Love? For my friends? For the future? The fiend in the mirror? Virgil, Don’t B Anxious

Tuesday, August 6, 2024

Meditation 036 ~Virgil, Don’t B Anxious~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I lust after you. Let me “Love You Down.” Or “I Wanna Sex You Up.”

Three things: First, it’s clear that Braxton isn’t talking to me today. Second, the critics aren’t going to like this. Third, despite worrying about Braxton’s aunt today, I feel a certain way. Today isn’t even today. It’s Saturday, August 3, 2024. Am I exhausted, love?

You betcha! That’s the difference between being anxious and excited. In terms of my boys… Virgil makes me anxious, but I’m excited to see Braxton. Anxiety takes a lot, babe.

And what about our two-legged children? I have been asking that question for 1283 days. I continue to mourn and/or grieve for Braxton. And now his aunt lost her fine furry fellow in Gabe. How long will I continue bringing that up? I’m excited to join Braxton someday. If anything.

I shouldn’t say things like that, but as I was telling Lady Lunalesca, I’m either depressed or depraved. And that’s when I’m not sleeping. You saw me reading Randomize by Andy Weir today. If I was as bright as the lady in that book, would I still be mourning Braxton?

Sad as it is, I’m excited to think about my son up in Heaven, on the Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. Is that why he’s not speaking to me now? He gave me enough songs today.

And if he left me so I could find love in another way, I swear! I love that little ole boy, but he will be in trouble. Oh! So I’m going to Heaven? Not with what excites me, love. Ha!

Today, I was excited as I delved into my novel, knowing you would be proud of my dedication. Is that my final answer, my love?

I’m anxious when it comes to writing. Still, when it comes to something I’m passionate about, even when I know the entire work is garbage, strangely, it reminds me of myself. I’m not excited to see myself, but I get up every day. And why? To see a time before. What does that mean? Before I get anxious about existing in this world another day.

There are my boys, well, boy. Again, B III was a testament to my being a father. Hell! A good one. That’s who I was before. And then some things bounce… in bed. Lovely. If only anxiety bounced back to excitement. Virgil, Don’t B Anxious

1283 Days Without B III, Day 724 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

What are the odds I wake up to questions? Where is Braxton? Why isn’t he here? Does he still look after me? Did Virgil make a mess? What’s up with Star Wars and Disney+. Who’s Yabbos are on Instagram that I can look up on X? “Never Tell Me The Odds.”

Monday, August 5, 2024

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So I’ll ask, but please don’t tell me the odds about Braxton, the Day Job, or Self-Gratification…

What are the odds that I’m still stuck on Sunday, January 31, 2021? That’s when my son, my Braxton, left this world. The weight of this loss is unbearable, and even now, I shouldn’t see more. No more. Everything hurts.

But then came Saturday, August 13, 2022. That’s when I met Virgil. What were the odds I would hear Braxton’s voice saying, “This is black and white, Dad. Save him!”

Indeed, what are the odds that I could live so long before B III found me? And so long after. Madam, E-Day is coming up fast. Forty is too long. The odds of this reality are beyond belief. You see…

But fifteen was not enough. What about eleven? What are the odds that today, Friday, August 2, 2024, I would be in mourning with Braxton’s Aunt? Braxton has a friend.

Gabriel Michael “Gabe” has passed.

B’s Aunt has joined the club… Another parent lost her fur baby, her son, Madam. And what are the odds she wasn’t ready? I wasn’t with the right words, songs of woe, or sage worldly advice. Hell! I thought B would live forever. Or that I would fall before him.

People play with their hearts regarding our four-legged friends or those that swim. Whatever. The odds that we can ever be the same without them… How does zero sound to you, Madam? And what are the odds that we have to keep getting up every single day? I ask why?

What are the odds that I let Braxton down and join him? It’s storming outside. I have my “protection” in the drawer. Trip, Poison, Stupidity…

But the Grim Reaper doesn’t play like that. Not with me, anyway. I’m not a “believer,” but God didn’t save my son. He is keeping me, though, or maybe that’s B III. Come on, dude.

No! I’m the one who plays. Today, I took a twenty-minute nap. I shouldn’t complain, but I’ve been trying to comfort Braxton’s Aunt as she comforted me when Braxton passed. Finding solace in this journey is a constant struggle, Madam.

What about the odds of having fun? Uh? Virgil got into trouble, so I sent him to Braxton’s room, which means I’ve been looking at Olivia Casta, Pawnshop, and anything else. I know, Madam, Eww! Can I keep it in my pants for at least three days? With this existence? What are the odds? Hmm.

Rest In Peace, Gabriel Michael. Be Nice, Braxton Barks, Please.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1282 Days Without B III, Day 723 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 033 ~Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs~

Everything happens for a reason. NOT? Like me reading about the Howlers and one of Darrow’s best friends dying. Uh, spoiler alert… My best friend is gone, and now my second best friend is mourning her fur baby “Gabe.” Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs

Saturday, August 3, 2024

Meditation 033 ~Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… But that doesn’t make me miss my boy, my son, Braxton, any less. If cryogenically frozen…

But I’ve been lost in fiction for this week, Lady Lunalesca. The cosmos’s coldness? Yes, I’m still reading “Morning Star.” We’ll get to that. There’s “my” unnamed title, “Sofía’s Nightmare.” Sofía, in a bunny costume from The Blackmail II: The Animation, is with the CEO. He’s saying, “Let’s Get It On”. There’s a random book I bought, too. Burning cash. It’s my way of finding comfort in these trying times.

Lunalesca, what am I forgetting? Got To Be Real, right? Braxton’s on a seventies kick. Wherever he is? Again, he’s not cryogenically frozen. B died. And now he has company.

Yesterday, right after speaking with Lady Sophia, I got the word from Braxton’s Aunt. Her fur baby, Gabriel Michael, joined Braxton with the “Spirit In The Sky.” August 2, 2024

Braxton’s Aunt’s son passed away.

If I didn’t make that clear, Lady Lunalesca, may his little soul rest in peace. She has to make decisions as I did when Braxton met his end. But Gabe tried to spare his mom. He died on his own and can say I did it “My Way.” That’s Frank Sinatra in 1969. Sixties and seventies music? I wonder. How will Gabriel talk to his mom? I’m trying as well.

Lunalesca, I’m at a loss. I have a record of what I did when Braxton fell, but I don’t know what to tell his Aunt. Who have I ever buried before… That I loved? Really, Luna. Two-legged family… I swear.

Braxton is in a box on the nightstand and a pendant I wear. Burial details are something new to me.

But I know she’s getting Gabe back as well. Braxton was cremated on February 4th, and he was “home” on February 10th. As for a ceremony? That I lacked Lunalesca.

This leads me back to reading. I showed Braxton’s Aunt as many books on grieving as I could—and there are even more. But how did I spend the rest of my night as she grieved?

I’m burying myself deeper with M Anime and her troubles as well. She’s the “Girl All The Bad Guys Want.” Why she deals with me, I’ll never know. Grieving, Groaning. I feel like I’m drowning in it all. Depression, Depravity.

Lunalesca, I’m doing one or the other. Or reading Cherry’s writing. There’s the Day Job humiliations. But Thursday pales in comparison to Friday’s news. Poor Gabe. Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs

1280 Days Without B III, Day 721 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Roleplay, Cosplay, and will I even make it to Halloween. With texts from my father and the things I have to do at the Day Job… If I can be real. I wish I were… uh, with Braxton. Which explains Virgil being all cuddly. “Virgil, Don’t B Bad.”

Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. No, not Virgil. He’s been a GD angel from last night to now. How long will he last?

I always expect the worst of people, including my Old Man’s dogs… But that’s a good story for another time. The question is, why am I so late talking to you today? It’s 7:30 a.m.

Humiliations Galore? Sure. But as always, let me remember my biggest sin of all. Echo,

my son is dead. It started on a Wednesday afternoon three years ago. Braxton Barks. Conversely, Virgil pulled a move from Braxton’s playbook, which explains where I am right now. Surprise, surprise, still in bed. And I have time before outside shenanigans. How about breakfast? Both Virgil and I skipped dinner last night as well, Inspector. Why? Braxton dying, me being born, not accepting what I’ve become. Monster, Savage, Coward?

Braxton’s father was my calling.

But yesterday, what was I? Don’t I always say the Day Job makes me into a villain in one way or another? There’s acting, and then there’s whatever I did at the meeting on Tuesday. Inspector, I owe the entire Harlem Nights cast an apology. Especially Della Reese as Vera.

“Are you saying I’m stealing?” Vera from Harlem Nights 1998.

Roleplay Inspector… There’s plenty I can do with that. I scare myself sometimes, and according to my coworkers, I scare them too. But aren’t I roleplaying every day anyway to get by? My Old Man texted me the other day, and I had to pretend to be okay. Echo, it’s exhausting. And the truth is…

I am not okay. I haven’t been since Braxton. It’s hard to keep pretending. They say fake it till you make it, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever make it. Only the real me…

Dead. That’s what “bad” people deserve. But to live as a monster or to die as a good man? You know that’s from the movie Shutter Island. I need to watch that. And the Olympics?

What happened to my patriotism? I’ve had a few POR… Passions. Saddens me to say. I’m starting on Day One again. But I blame the novel I’m writing. I blame Camp NaNoWriMo. But you know what, Inspector? I’m not giving up. I won’t get close to 50,000 words, but 15,000?

But why bother? What “reasonable” person imagines a girl with several gentlemen callers, I ask?

Or think to borrow… well, steal the hotel scene from Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku?

Inspector to spend the day cuddling with my boys. That’s What Makes A Good Man. Maybe. Virgil, Don’t B Bad.

1277 Days Without B III, Day 718 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 029 ~Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold~

Too much time and being lazy, you have a lot of time to watch movies about Gold. I can read about Golds. And in the case of The Outsiders, both. And what about love. Let me get from point A to point B. Cars cost money. But Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold.

Tuesday, July 30, 2024

Meditation 029 ~Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But “For the Love of Money,” I remain a traditionalist. A Man Provides. Stay Gold…

We don’t worry so much about our gold anymore. But today, Wednesday, July 24, 2024…

Well, I remember. Tomorrow is going to be a bad day. And we’re talking now because I bet Tuesday will be pretty horrible. And I shouldn’t say this, but you know how I am. Sigh.

Every day without my beloved Braxton Barks is a heavy burden. His absence weighs on me like the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. I miss his presence, his barking, his warmth. He was a blessing in my life.

Why do you think I fell in love with you, angel…? And those pillows of yours, ha-ha! We have our rug rats. And Virgil’s soft.

I’m trying to be gentler with my head because of my heart… This is my heart, and it’s broken. Ironically, it was the softest thing in the world that broke it. Again, that’s my Braxton.

And I have you, our family, and even Virgil to help put it back together. But the price of all this, love, has been bothering me for the past few days. The sacrifices, the emotional toll, the fear of losing what I hold dear. Gold and existing. Always more gold.

No matter how much I make, I can’t stay here in our bed. I can’t lay my head in my lap forever or hold our kids in mine because they grow up. Braxton did. I always told him he would be as tall as a king someday. Make that a little God who I worship…

I sent my first love straight to Heaven, and now I want to build a Heaven for you, my love. Wow! That didn’t sound creepy at all. But you know what I mean, hopefully. Love?

Things have been so hard, heavy, and, dare I say, human. But I’m a man. And a man must be more when he has such great love, baby doll. I caught this ‘Traditional’ video that resonated with me, emphasizing the importance of love and responsibility.

They say with great power comes great responsibility. With love, you can say the same. It’s why those in my position… usually choose not to love. The price is too much. But love is priceless… I wish I could believe that like Braxton returning, which would be a miracle, or Virgil’s is his reincarnation. Innocent love. Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold

1276 Days Without B III, Day 717 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

Some people only seek out hate. Sadness makes it so I can’t breathe. Lust and Fear, too. Rage? I’m like a carrier of the “rage virus” in 28 Days/Weeks Later. But that only condemns me. And the ashes were once known as B. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

Monday, July 29, 2024

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… like choosing my fears over rage. I choose plenty over rage. But that’s the secret, like Bruce.

“I’m Always Angry”
The Avengers

You know one of the many reasons I envy my son? He’s dead. And don’t get me wrong, Madam. You can hate the dead. Speak ill about them and everything. But of everything I remember about my Braxton. I don’t remember the anger. And I was angry at him, sure.

But not once have I been angry about him leaving, as I told Dear Future Wife today. It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Anyway, I told her I was always angry at me, myself and I.

Again, every book on loss is against this. And I’m mad at those writers. But it doesn’t mean I go around burning books like some people. B III’s death is in the hands of two.

But more on that later. What am I mad about today? There’s been Humiliations Galore?

Which is why we’re talking today. Only what has me now this second? Existing, Madam.

Everything is falling apart around me, for starters. There was a storm. So, I need to check on the fence. A light came on in the car, so I must get that checked out. I mistakenly looked up appointments, and they’re already talking about five hundred dollars. No effing way!

That means I can’t risk ordering something. But “no worries,” Madam. I won’t let Virgil starve. And Virgil is as confused as ever, not realizing his business belongs outside only.

It’s not like I’m training him or anything. Locking him behind one of Braxton’s gates.

This brings me back to the one I hold the most rage for… Myself. And there are not enough words or time to explain why I hate myself so much. And joining my Braxton… sigh.

Okay. First is the euthanasia of my son. I blame myself and the other culprit… The Day Job. There was so much rage for and from those people there that I ignored my son. Then?

B III in a box on the nightstand. My rage burned my son to ash. The Hell within me. Rage!

I look in the mirror. Through a camera lens. Even my search history. For example, Pacifica Ocean aka Paz Ortega Andrade. That’s from a few minutes ago. Talk about fire. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1275 Days Without B III, Day 716 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 026 ~The V Games Braxton~

Have they begun complaining about The Olympics yet? I called myself patriotic, taking the day off to watch the Opening Ceremony twice. It gave me time to catch up on mobile games and anime. What about writing? The V Games Braxton.

Saturday, July 27, 2024

Meditation 026 ~The V Games Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… But it isn’t from writing—not yet, at least. And that’s not why I started writing.

At this point of the story, my son Braxton would raise his head. I told him that I was going to give him the life he deserved… WE deserved when I finished, Lunalesca. With editing…

I was writing long before I started singing “Welcome to My World” or “Welcome to the World.” Sigh… Today’s songs are brought to you by Wang Chung and Kevin Rudolf. Lunalesca, remind me to make a playlist of the songs Braxton sends me. Did that.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, my writing. Well, my lack thereof with yesterday. The Olympics have begun. Here are a few reasons why opening my eyes today hurts:

  1. Braxton isn’t here anymore
  2. I look at myself
  3. Losing myself to Yabbos
  4. The Matrix has me…
  5. I see the successful
  6. Look what I’m writing

I’m determined to get back on track, Lady Lunalesca, but…

There’s Too Much Sauce. I woke up late again, ok. And I should be grateful for the hours next week for my Day Job. But look at my typical routine, and It’s A Beautiful Morning:

So I’m sitting here, and as I said, Braxton’s Playlist has included again: Wang Chung, Kevin Rudolf, Drake, DJ ESCO, and The Rascals. B loved music, movies, and big mammaries. Then I was thinking about how I barely got any writing done. The Opening Ceremony. But what I did made me question where the novel is moving towards, Lunalesca. Once I read that a good artist creates, a great artist steals. Uh, that’s rude, maybe…

But sitting here, I was thinking about Thursday. Uh Houkago Ren’ai Club ~Koi no Etude~. Me and Japanese, Lunalesca. Let’s just say Casual Romance Club. I’m trying to pin down the novel type. And there’s Casual Romance Club meets The Blackmail II: The Animation, plus Rei Ayanami all wrapped up in “Sofía’s Nightmare,” Lunalesca. However, as you can see, I began looking at The V Games books by Ker Dukey while searching for something to read. And as always, there are Yabbos. In this case, Elsa’s from Frozen… Uh, gross…

And then I wonder why my business is nowhere. I’m broke. And Braxton is gone. Where’d You Go? Lunalesca, I swear! The V Games Braxton.

1273 Days Without B III, Day 714 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

I should have named Virgil “Cash.” Then I could say I have Cash at the house. But I was looking for the path out of Hell, so I got Virgil. Only keeping Hell “LIT” means burning money. Books, boobs, and the boys. Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I didn’t take care of my son. I don’t take care of myself. And Virgil lives with it.

How do I know? Because he stayed beside me all night for once. I guess. Protecting his meal ticket. Braxton was protecting his best friend. An unfair comparison, Echo. Noted.

But my heart is still empty since I lost Braxton. Empty? It’s still broken. And again, that’s unfair when it comes to Virgil. But as the song goes, “But love is a long, long road.”

Inspector, am I being petty? Ha-Ha, Tom Petty! Anything beats being scared, like last night. And I keep saying it… Whenever I feel frightened and/or fiendish, I think of the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Being born is the second. Braxton’s death, first.

My son died on an empty stomach. What cash I had ended my boy’s suffering.

When I was young… More like “When We Were Young.” Sometimes, I would starve myself on purpose. My pathetic hunger strikes because I wanted to die. B wanted to live.

I remember getting back from the hospital once and my Ma telling me that Braxton was nearly out of food and his water was dirty. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting to die. No. My shame is that Braxton suffered because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was/am his father, dammit! Keeping my son alive meant that I had to stay alive. Then Braxton wasn’t.

Inspector, it should have ended there. Only an hour after Braxton was “euthanized,” I was buying a picture frame. And then in a BBQ drive-thru at my Ma’s behest. Sigh.

You see, Echo, thinking about my empty/broken heart from losing my “soul pet” means I’m not thinking about my stomach. But I’ll pick up BBQ on Thursday. If I’m not broke from the auto shop. One place is closer to me, but I like the piggie potato from the other place. Why don’t I look and scream, “Feed your head!” Uh, I’m reading Morning Star.

Yeah, and Darrow is escaping from a prison where he was nearly starved to death. Inspector, I’m empty of a conscience, too, with how I’ve been writing these days. Seriously. There’s money and time, which I have none of, which explains my exhaustion, Inspector Echo.

But Virgil has needs. Food, finding meds, and friendship. Living for Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

1270 Days Without B III, Day 711 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 022 ~B It Yesterday, Virgil~

What happened to the man she married? She hasn’t met him yet. Or should have met him way before this. Losing B? Depression? Age? I met B III “When We Were Young.” 2V had lost puppy status when we met. But we’re both children. “B It Yesterday, Virgil”

Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Meditation 022 ~B It Yesterday, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And let’s get this out of the way. “Honey, why you calling me so late?

It’s 7:30 AM, so where have I been? Would you rather I say I was with a girl or communing with the spirit world? Definitely the latter. After everything yesterday, I fell asleep with all the lights on. Don’t we tell the kids we aren’t made of money? You don’t compare one kid to another, but they should be like Virgil. He was conked out until about 4:00 AM. That’s when I woke up, turned off the lights, and he went running off… Braxton, of course, appeared in my dreams. And that’s why I’m late. Father and son quality time. I miss my B. My beloved “pet” who passed away.

Always and forever. And I wouldn’t have to if I hadn’t failed B. I just read a book saying that’s not true, but still… Belief

Knowledge is stronger than belief. And here I go with my pop culture shtick. I’ve been watching, reading. And yes, writing about men doing whatever was necessary, sacrificing their comfort and desires, to provide for their families. That’s right.

All to provide, protect, and live their purpose. That’s when it comes to their family. A woman’s place is in the home… That’s yesterday’s thinking. I stand on the principle that a man provides for his family. If I’m somebody’s Pa, father, daddy, whatever. I do what must be done. And I don’t need God or an emperor telling me so. B would expect nothing less.

If only I could be who I was when he was here? Well, somehow, someway, I got you. And when anything good happens. That’s B.

Looking at the bad days, I constantly say I survived the worst. I lost my firstborn son, and I survived. It doesn’t make me stronger, and Virgil can tell you I’m not smarter. But I’m here. I am always here. And that’s not enough, forever. You deserve more, my love.

Inevitably, I open my eyes and see men that do such things with love. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they fail. But all I know of myself, this father, friend, and fellow you married, is someone who forgets how to put one foot in front of the other. Like following Braxton. And I stopped doing that 1269 days ago. I need to lead our children. I need to walk beside you. Now? B It Yesterday, Virgil.

1269 Days Without B III, Day 710 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will