Sorry I've been a bit MIA had exams to study for and ended up in the hospital for a little bit but I'm back and to start back of I present a chapter I wrote while half asleep hopped up on coffee and showing my major mommy issues ... oops but anyway i hope you're well and if you ever need to talk im here love you lots
XOXO-ivy 🫶🏻
Around 1500 words so yh apologies
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Waking up to the faint echo of a closing door, I stumbled into the kitchen to find a note on the fridge. It carried the familiar handwriting of my mom, Taylor , explaining that she was at the studio once again, chasing melodies and crafting her art. A sigh escaped my lips as I read about the money left by the phone for dinner, a poignant reminder of the physical and emotional distance between us.
The house echoed with silence, occasionally interrupted by the distant sounds of the city outside. I couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness, as the walls seemed to absorb the void left by her absence. The photos on the walls captured moments frozen in time, stark contrasts to the current reality.
With a heavy heart, I decided to spend the day on my own, navigating the quiet rooms filled with echoes of music that once danced in the air when Mom was around. The day stretched long, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, I found myself longing for her presence.
~~~~~
When the studio lights finally dimmed and the night sky enveloped the world, I waited for the sound of the front door opening, yearning for the reassurance that she hadn't completely disappeared into the realm of fame.
As the clock ticked away, the door creaked open, and there she was – my mom, wearing a tired yet genuine smile. Her eyes softened when she saw me, peacefully asleep on the living room couch, surrounded by the remnants of a day spent waiting.
Quietly, she tiptoed closer, her footsteps almost blending with the hushed melodies playing in the background. A mixture of guilt and love painted her expression as she observed me, strands of her golden hair falling gently across her face.
In that moment, I stirred from my slumber, my eyes fluttering open to meet hers. There was a brief pause, a shared understanding passing between us. Without uttering a word, she scooped me up in her arms, cradling me like she had done countless times when I was younger.
Ascending the staircase, each step echoed the tender reunion of a mother and her child. The soft glow of the hallway lights revealed a myriad of emotions etched on her face – regret, affection, and a deep desire to bridge the gap that had grown throughout the day.
As she laid me down in bed, tucking the blankets around me, her fingers lingered, gently brushing my hair. In that tender moment, the weight of the day began to dissipate. With a whispered promise to make more time, she pressed a soft kiss on my forehead, leaving the room bathed in a comforting silence.
The door closed, and I drifted back into a peaceful slumber, the strains of her lullaby drifting through the air, a melody that spoke of a love that transcended the demands of fame.
The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently waking me from a restful sleep. Stretching and yawning, I made my way downstairs, hoping for a day filled with shared moments with my mom, Taylor Swift. However, as I descended the staircase, the distant sound of a heated conversation caught my attention.
"Jack, we can't keep going in circles like this," my mom's voice strained through the phone.
There was a tense pause, and I hesitated in the doorway, eavesdropping on words that hinted at the challenges of her dual life.
"No, I understand, but I need a bit more time. The album is almost there, and I want it to be perfect," she explained, her tone a delicate balance between determination and compromise.
When the call concluded, she sighed and looked at me, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. "Sweetheart, I have to head to the studio again. There's something I need to sort out with Jack," she explained, her voice tinged with regret.
I nodded, understanding the demands her career placed on her. "It's just for a little while, okay?" she reassured, cupping my face in her hands.
As the door closed behind her, I found myself alone once more, the echoes of her departure lingering in the empty spaces of the house. The day stretched ahead, a canvas painted with solitude. I glanced at the note on the fridge, the money left for dinner, realizing that the familiar routine of being home alone had returned.
Yet, amidst the quiet, I resolved to find solace in the melodies that surrounded me – the tunes of my mom's music playing softly, a connection that transcended the physical distance between us.
Feeling the weight of loneliness, I reached for my phone and dialed my dad's number, hoping for a comforting voice on the other end. After a few rings, he picked up, his warm British accent carrying through the line.
"Hey, Dad, it's me," I greeted, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Hello, love! How's everything?" he responded, the familiarity in his tone momentarily easing my sense of solitude.
As we chatted about my day and my longing for more time with Mom, I gathered the courage to express my feelings. "Dad, I was wondering... Can I come stay with you in England for a while? It's just... it's been tough being home alone so much."
There was a brief pause before he sighed, "I wish you could, darling, but there's something I need to tell you." His tone shifted, and my heart sank.
He gently revealed that he was engaged to his girlfriend and they were expecting a baby. The news hit me like a tidal wave, leaving me stunned and vulnerable. It was as if the last remnants of belonging were slipping away.
"I hope you understand, sweetheart. It's a big change, and we want to create a stable home for the baby," he explained, his words a distant echo in the sudden silence.
As I hung up the phone, a profound sense of abandonment settled over me. The realization that the two people I had always turned to were building new lives, seemingly without a place for me, left me feeling adrift in a sea of isolation. The walls of the empty house seemed to close in, and an overwhelming sense of not being wanted washed over me.
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A couple days later my gran called wanting to talk she usually called every so often. Noticing my change in mood she questioned me on how I was doing i tried to fake it knowing she was already going through so much with chemo however I forget she spent ages raising my mum so she knew all the tricks and how to break us as I poured my heart out to my grandmother over the phone, little did I know that my mom was quietly listening in on the conversation. I shared the loneliness, the ache of feeling replaced, and the sense of not being wanted. My gran, with her comforting words, offered a sense of solace that I desperately needed.
Unbeknownst to me, my mom, touched by the vulnerability in my voice, decided it was time to make things right. She had been wrapped up in the demands of her career, inadvertently overlooking the emotional toll it was taking on me.
~~~~~
That evening, she sat me down, a sincere expression in her eyes. "I overheard your conversation with your granny Andrea, and I want you to know how sorry I am. You're my top priority, and I never meant for you to feel this way."
Tears welled up in my eyes as we shared a heart-to-heart conversation. She explained the challenges she faced in balancing her personal and professional life and promised to make a concerted effort to be there for me. Together, we began to bridge the emotional gap that had widened in the recent days.
~~~~~
As we delved into the process of rebuilding our connection, my mom went above and beyond to ensure that the melodies of her life harmonized with the needs of our relationship. She began involving me in her creative process, sharing snippets of songs in their early stages, making me feel like an essential part of her world.
On weekends, she organized special outings – whether it was a cozy dinner, a movie night, or simply strolling through the park. These moments were no longer fleeting; they became anchors in our shared history, a testament to her commitment to being there for me.
One evening, after a particularly heartwarming day together, she looked into my eyes with sincerity. "You mean the world to me, and I want you to always feel that way," she expressed, her words carrying the weight of genuine love.
With a tender smile, she added, "I love you to the moon."
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I responded, "And to Saturn."
The exchange became our special ritual, a reminder that our love transcended any distance – be it the vastness of space or the challenges of our lives. In those simple words, we found a connection that anchored us in the present while reaching for the stars of a brighter future. The melody of our relationship, once disrupted, now played in a harmonious symphony that echoed the genuine bond between a mother and her child.