Tale 040 ~Don’t B Broken, Virgil~

When I thought V had thrown up on the phone, I was ready to get it fixed. When B was sick, I’d have paid anything to save him. I was on the phone all night when this very blog went down. But the floor, fence, and freeloader? “Don’t B Broken, Virgil.”

Thursday, August 10, 2023

Tale 040 ~Don’t B Broken, Virgil~

921 Days Without B III, Day 362 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I haven’t had one in… 921 days and counting. “When we pretend that we’re dead…”

Only you don’t have to pretend. You were broken, Braxton. And nothing more could be done on Saturday, January 31, 2021. All the king’s horses and men and all that… I’m coming to you on Sunday, August 6, 2023. I can’t help but wonder what’s broken now. These days, I keep imagining that nothing’s wrong. But the floor, fence, and the freeloader sigh. I know B III. I need to stop calling 2V that. Did I save him, or did he save himself from being “Down with the Sickness?” Hell! I’m still broke B III. Payday today! I’m not feeling anything close to good about it. I’m looking at this existence like Han Solo looked at the Millennium Falcon. “You hear me, baby? Hold together.”

I’ve repeatedly said, “It’s my heart, and it’s broken.” Something I can blame you for, B. No! “You can put the blame on me.” I’m a broken record, but it was indifference. While trying not to hurt you, I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything at all. Okay B III? And now, in my guts… Anytime I want to say I don’t have any? TMI! I’m making myself much too sick whenever I wake up because all I can feel is worry, wantonness, and my wish. Oh, a Death wish… I want to be with you, I don’t want to wake up, and I don’t want to wait for the next thing to be broken. And there will be nothing that I can do, Braxton.

I literally hold up the fence you so loyally defended for all these years with sticks and stones. But to watch it come apart every minute, moment, and maybe even now. Yeah, it’s Sunday, and I’m sitting at the dining room table as a storm rages outside, ready to break it. Humiliations Galore are waiting on the other side. This morning, I told the Man In The Mirror that I look to all these things as a sign. Your Dad will be thirty-nine soon, and I have to do something. But whether it be my pants, all the pain, or… well, that other P TMI. I’m broken. And if I wasn’t so pathetic, I’d make it so… I couldn’t be fixed. Don’t B Broken, Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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