I see her every day

Time’s passed, but she’s never far from my thoughts. It started out small. We dated a year after high school. We fought more than we fucked but just barely. She wasn’t right for me but right from the start I loved her. Thing is, I dumped her. It was complicated and it felt as wrong as it did right. Turns out that breakup left a her-shaped hole inside me.

For a time there I tried not to think of her, but you know how that goes. So I gave in and thought of her. I gave myself Tuesdays. Tuesdays I’d remember her smile, her curly hair, her laugh. Time was Tuesdays were enough. I’d recall our little adventures, remember her outside in the yard, just dumb shit like pushing her on the swings. Hard to believe that we were only kids.

Ours wasn’t the greatest love story ever told. Nah, we were too young, ragged, unformed. Stupid wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. Sometimes I thought that if I could just see her, I’d be able to forget her.

Tuesdays I took to leaving her little notes, a line from a song or a book, just a little hello taped to the door. They were nothing, just some junk to fill up that hole inside me. What can you say to someone who will never love you back?

Wednesdays I’d drown the memories. Cruel day, Wednesday. I’d lock her notes in a drawer and move on. Years passed like that, and six days a week I did what needed to be done. Got outta school, got a job, you know the deal. I even found a wife. It took a while, but I settled down and had a kid, and that’s alright. But Tuesday kept coming around again. Tuesdays I felt alive.

After the kid, Tuesdays stopped cutting it so I gave her Wednesdays too. I thought I deserved it, my two days. Everybody needs a weekend. Years went by and my kid got to be the age I was when I first met her. It got me thinking, you know. I got gutsy and friended her on Facebook. I saw her every day and every day was Tuesday.

I was wrong about seeing her. I loved her all over again. I don’t want to sound callous, but I was waiting on her husband to die. In the meantime I posted jokes for her. I looked for glimpses of unhappiness in her photos. So what if I never found any? I’m not insane.

One week Tuesday came on Monday. I just wanted to talk to her. You’d be surprised how easy it was to figure out her address. I hid out till she got home, and tried to talk to her when she did. I asked how she was, and I asked her to swing for me. I asked her to say yes to me. When she said no, something came over me. I started wanting to drag her outside in the yard and use the chains on the swingset to tie her up, just to get a good look at her. Didn’t do it, though.

Damn if her husband doesn’t come home early Mondays. He called the cops on me and the very next day they had a restraining order. No more Facebook photos. Soon after that I swore off Tuesdays one more time and I found Jesus. Reverend says He saved my soul.

I gotta say, things are better now. Reverend says Jesus loves me, so now I get loved back. Tuesdays are Sundays now, and nobody cares that I see her every time I look at Jesus up there on the cross. Finding Jesus feels right, and it’s kinda like the rightness eclipsed every mistake made along the way.

21 thoughts on “I see her every day

      1. You know, I always say things like that to you, but I never elaborate because, frankly, I always feel like my words are so shabby next to yours. (It’s the same problem I have when I want to comment on something Trent Lewin has written — I get tongue-tied.) I’m going to try not to be like that anymore.

        I love that you turned this story on its head, that the woman involved rejected his advances. I like that you point out that there’s a fine line between romance and stalking and it all depends on the POV of the one being obsessed over.

        And I liked the song, too. “Every Breath You Take” would have worked, too, but the Reverend’s gritty style definitely suits your writing far better than the Police could ever do.

        1. Wow, I think this is my best comment ever! Thank you so much for the praise and thoughtful comments. For the record, your words are perfect. It means so much to me that you have given my writing so much thought. Oh, and I heard the song playing on the radio before I started writing, and I just sort of got a feeling that it would be a good starting point. I love writing from songs.

    1. Thank you. You know this is fiction, right? It might not be immediately obvious, and with the first person POV it might be confusing.

  1. There is definitely a fine line between love and stalking, of turning a memory into an obsession, and you have portrayed that so well here. I love that he found love in the end, another obsession to dazzle him for more years to come. Nice use of the prompts. I enjoyed this very much.

  2. I feel for the guy’s wife- to commit to someone and find out he’s all tied up in some fantasy (or he wanted to be ‘tied up’ in it 🙂 )

  3. Wow, what a great job with the prompts, Christi! Love this guy’s voice and I love how you set the tone with the Reverend Horton Heat at the beginning, then tied that into your ending in a very creative way. Nicely done! 🙂

  4. The flow of this was great, ingenious really. It read quickly like we went down the rabbit hole with him.

    the thing is I believe we all hold a torch for someone or something. Or maybe many things..but some people (torches) are just not worth the light you shine on them.

    this was creepy, so well written and fun to read. Jesus Saves: (every day of the week apparently 😉 )

  5. I like the way you blurred the edges, making love into obsession. The use of days of the week worked well, as did the girl’s reaction and finding Jesus ending. Creepy and very well written.

  6. I have always thought unrequited love could be an obsession if you don’t move on emotionally. I can understand loving someone and liking to hear their life has gone well but pining over someone who does not love you back is not OK. Well written.

  7. We live in an age where you really can “reconnect” with that lost paramour from decades past . And what do you do with those emotions, once you give them permission to breathe and stretch out a bit? I think this story answers that perfectly. It might turn out alright, but it might end up with a restraining order. 😉

Comments are closed.