Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays

Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays

Part 3 of a new series from regular contributor Jack Cain.

Header image by Jack Cain.

The days of the week series are split into three teasers. They are all from a chapter in the book I'm writing which will be called 'Gaslighting'. The words in this are moments from my real life. Read part one HERE and Part 2 HERE.

Monday-

This letter might be badly written, I'm sorry. I'm writing it with my left hand, there is cum on my right.

I still think of you when I do that you know. The same fantasy I'd have you act out when you were around. It still works, that and memories.

I remember the time you were half-hanging off the bed, I had your arms pinned behind your back. It was the best sex we'd ever had.

We had pizza and vodka for dinner that night. You never took much to get drunk, you boasted on and on about your ability to drink. Maybe you were one of those people who stay at the same level of drunkness all the time, I don't know.

You were fun though, when you drank, you were fun when you sang the songs you love. You were fun when you were drunk.

It was rare to see you drunk.

Tuesday-

I wiped it off this time, it's funny I can only really think after I've finished. I just deleted all the photos of you that I had on my phone. It was sad, it was happy, it was cleansing and clogging all at once, it was like going to bed in dirty clothes after a shower, I felt good, but not as good as I should.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.

Someone recently told me that I think lots of things will be hard when it comes to removing you but they won't be that hard, she was right.

I'm still scared of seeing you, you know in real life, because I see you everywhere in my head.

I see you at the coffee shops we stood in, the benches we sat on and had our fights at. I see you in the shirts I wear, I see you on the train platform. I see you in the rain and I see myself next to you.

But I don't see you in the future anymore, I remember you, but I've stopped creating visions of us together from now.

Time is cruel, and you are everywhere. You are the face of a clock I love, and it has bells that toll for my pain.

Thursday-

"You could still be what you want to be, what you said you were, when you met me." - Daughter.

I think things have really turned around for me and where I'm going. When you stay stuck for a long time you notice even the tiniest movements beneath you. Even when no one else does.

I was stuck, and for so long I felt tiny movements but I misjudged them. They to me, where the earth underneath me cracking, or a tree in my future falling on my house, perhaps I felt the fissures of my family life from my past shake my knees.

I thought as much but I was wrong. I was running from what we had with a blindfold on, and earplugs in.

It feels lately I've managed to lose both of these things and it's come to fruition that the movement I can feel is my legs and feet running, to god knows where, but I'm moving. I'm moving past this.

I can feel it all rushing past, all the signs all the words and the music, becoming mine again. Songs that belonged to me, that made me sad thinking of you, they are coming back to me, they are my medicine.

That was the hardest part, I gave you all my medicine, I gave you everything.

I'm forever missing you and you caused it, but it's okay, you loved me, and whether you still do or don't I can only be thankful and love you more for loving me at all.

This part is emptiness unravelling, and we are in the middle.

Close