Okay, enough with the tears! Here's the chance to shed some light on Caleb.
18. New Found Inspiration
As I cried, I saw my guitar and hugged it. It didn't matter to me, I was used to hugging cold hard things.
When I was finally able to pull myself together, I saw the glistening drops on my guitar.
That got me thinking.
For the next hour I began writing songs I had finished the concept for my second album. This was something anyone could relate to.
I saw Mom smile at me encouragingly when she saw me holding my guitar. I had put different types of hurt into the songs; unrequited love, forbidden love, heartache and heartbreak.
I'd finished a song for each kind of hurt, but nothing felt strong enough to be a carrier single. I had a meeting scheduled in a few hours, so I thought it best to get ready.
I was plucking my guitar randomly when Caleb entered.
"Hey," he said cheerfully. He had no idea what had happened.
"Hello," I replied. I could hear the sadness in my own voice.
"Whoa, sounds like you woke up on the wrong side of bed," he commented. "Where's Jacob?"
"I . . . don't want to talk about it," I said, playing with the fringe on one of the pillows.
He understood immediately and sat beside me.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I guess," I lied. I felt like I was falling apart. That the guitar was the only thing that I could cling to. That and Caleb.
I felt like no matter how bright the sun is now—very rare for London—the darkness still engulfed me. I was in the middle of pitch blackness. I was experiencing my personal midnight.
"I'm so lucky," I sighed suddenly.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"The world's crashing around me." I began "and yet here you stand beside me, ready to pull me out of the rubble. Well, here you sit, actually."
He smiled at my pun. "I told you I'll be here as long as you need me, right? It sounds like you need me a lot right now." He just opened his arms and I can't help but launched into them. A hug was exactly what I needed.
Later, we had a meeting. They approved of my concept, but we still hadn't decided on the title.
For the next few days, my anger levels went down. I tried to call him to check if he was okay, but he never answered the phone.
It was like he'd forgotten about everything.
That got me to work again. I was sitting at my piano, but I had my guitar beside me.
"Did you forget that I was even alive
Did you forget everything we ever had
Did you forget, did you forget about me?"
It took me around five minutes to create the song. There was a simple tune bugging my head and I found out I could use it in the end.
"Somewhere we went wrong
Our love is like a song
But you won't sing along
You've forgotten about us."
Now that was a carrier single. I had been so emotional throughout the whole songwriting process that I had actually been crying the entire time. My wet face had surprised me.
"It's the best one you've written yet," remarked Mom after I had calmed down. "That song should've been available when Edward left."
I smiled at her sheepishly, a somewhat appreciation of her trying to make me laugh.
"You're neither the first nor the last teenager to go through this," she said. "I'd been through this too."
If anyone would understand, it was Mom. Of course I knew the entire story. I didn't want her to go back to that.
"I'm no teenager," I contradicted. "I'm just a ten-year-old."
"Hmm. You are like me in many ways more than your dad and I can imagine." she said.
I began playing the guitar absentmindedly. A string broke with a loud twang.
"Oh crap!" I cried. I loved my guitar!
"Come on, we could buy a new one," Mom consoled, making me stand up.
"No way are we replacing Her," I said. I loved my guitar too much to let it go. She even had a name.
"Renesmee, it's older than you."
"That what I like best about it," I said. "It doesn't matter. I can still play this."
"You can't play a broken string, Nessie."
"Yes, I can," I said stubbornly. I tried, but the absence of one string made it sound bad.
"Come on, we'll fix it," Mom said. "Well, if you're planning to do any more songwriting I guess you'll have to make do with your Uncle Em's for the meantime." At least, that's what I thought she said. My conscious mind was busy thinking back on the day I had to leave.
Let me hold you for the last time.
It's the last chance to feel again.
I'd been stupid. I'd forgotten one kind of hurt. The hurt when you finally realize that everything was just a game.
I dialed Cale's phone.
"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked when he picked up.
"Do me a favor."
"Okay. Sure."
I took a deep breath. "Can you record a song with me?"
Okay, so I was wrong. I've got one more chapter!