The Heartbreak Factor - Part Three

Chapter Twenty.

“Sammy, I know you’re heartbroken but you’ve got to get out of bed some time,” mum said as the door to my bedroom opened.

“I don’t,” I groaned, turning over in bed and shoving my head under the pillow.

I felt mum sit at the end of my bed and I knew she was looking at me with a disappointed look as I could feel her eyes daggering at me.

“Lisa called earlier,” mum sighed, flicking my duvet off my leg as I laid motionless in bed. “She wanted to know if you’ve written that song yet. Michael said he’d happily take you to the studio if you want to record the demo.”

“No,” I snapped, burrowing my head further into the pillow.

“Cut the crap, Sammy. You’re not the only person to have experienced heartbreak in your life. I know how much George meant to you and that you’re devastated, but you need to get your life back on track. You’ve been in bed for the past week and not spoken to anybody. Why don’t you use this as an opportunity to write a song?”

I pulled my head out from beneath the pillow and turned to face her. “Write a song about heartbreak? I’m not Taylor Swift. I don’t want to parade mine and George’s relationship in the media, let alone my work.”

“Well write a song about anything – flowers, newborn puppies, egg sandwiches. I don’t care. Just get yourself motivated and out of bed,” mum said.

I could tell just by the tone of her voice that she was still concerned about me; I knew she was right as well. Hesitantly, I sat up in bed and looked at mum. “I just miss him, mum,” I sobbed.  

Wrapping her arms around me, mum sat down on bed beside me. “I know you do honey. You two have been through so much and you were each other’s first loves. It’d be weird if you didn’t miss him. But I promise you, things will get better,” she smiled, rubbing my back in an attempt to calm me down.

“I wanna see him.”

Mum looked at me. “Give it a few weeks,” she suggested as she continued to hug me. “You both need some space.”

“I know,” I sighed.

“I tell you what,” she smiled, reaching over to my bedside table, grabbing the pen and notepad. “I’m not exactly Ed Sheeran, but how about I help you write a song? It surely can’t be that hard.”

I laughed at her as she opened the notepad up and started to ponder as to how to start the side.

“What?” she grinned to me.

“You have no idea, do you mum?”

“Give me some credit,” she laughed. “I’m a thirty-eight year old mum of two, not a twenty-year old super star that writes songs for a living.”

“Super star?” I asked, trying to take control my laughter.

“You’re my super star,” she grinned.

Mum continued to look at me with a huge grin on her face.

“What?” I asked, getting paranoid as to why she was still looking at me.

“You look gorgeous when you smile,” she smiled. “I’ve never realised how much you look like your dad when you smile.”

“Whatever,” I laughed. “Come on then Elton John, if you think song writing is that easy, write a song.”

“I’ve wrote the first line,” mum smiled proudly as she handed me the notepad.

Taking the notepad off her, I didn’t know whether to tell the truth or lie. She looked at me anxiously as I re-read the “lyrics”.