Last week, I had an assignment due for my creative writing class asking me to write a short story using the following prompt:

The first time I heard (insert song here) by (insert artist here), I was (doing this action) at (this place).

It was a lot of fun to pick a song and look at the lyrics and think about what kind of situation I could write about. I ended up picking a John Mayer song (no surprise there) and writing about a sad breakup. Check it out:

The first time I heard “Slow Dancing In A Burning Room” by John Mayer, I was in my bedroom folding laundry. It was a simple, August day.

I’ve listened to this particular John Mayer album a hundred times, but this was the first time I really stopped and listened to the lyrics.

The lyrics hit me like a ton of bricks.

Evan and I had been having problems for a few months now, but I was perfectly content to push the issues out of my mind. I mean, the problems weren’t that bad, really. I was probably just overreacting. One phone call (well, maybe it was more like four) from another girl doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

Then the song came on. I paused a moment, sank into my desk chair ignoring the load of colorful tops that needed to be folded.

I remembered the fight we had last night. We were out to dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant in the city celebrating our two year anniversary. Just as the waiter brought over two glasses of wine, I heard his phone vibrate in his pocket. I knew exactly who was calling. I swallowed my anger, put a smile on my face and pretended like I didn’t hear the phone.

We toasted to two happy years together and dug into our meals; mine, spaghetti al arabiata and his, gnocchi in vodka sauce. The rest of the meal went perfectly. I was reminded of all the reasons I fell for him in the first place.

Since it was a beautiful night, not too humid with just a hint of autumn in the air, we decided to take a walk after dinner. I leaned in close and felt his familiar arm wrap around my waist. I smiled, finally putting all of my worries out of my mind.

Then, his phone vibrated again. This time I felt it vibrate against my leg.

“Answer it,” I demanded.

“No, Amy. It’s really not a big deal. It’s probably just someone from work,” he replied quickly pressing the button to mute his phone.

“Give it to me,” I demanded.

He handed the phone over. I took a deep breath and clicked the missed call button: Amanda.

I knew it. I knew it was her.

I threw the phone at him and raced ahead desperately trying to find a cab. Thoughts ran though my mind. He promised that he had cut off all contact with Amanda. Evan caught up with me.

“Amy, I’m sorry…” he trailed off. “She’s lonely. Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she says I’m the only one who can make her feel better,” he said in defense.

“Ha!” I scoffed. “You know I don’t like your friendship with Amanda. Any other girl and I’d be fine! But not Amanda. There’s too much history there.”

A cab finally pulled over and I jumped in and slammed the door.

Once I got home, I jumped into bed, not ready to deal with the events of the night and my feelings. When I woke up, I launched into crazy cleaning mode and made sure that every inch of my apartment glistened.

My apartment was quiet. I had shut my phone off hours ago not wanting to hear what Evan had to say. As I folded laundry, I listened to the familiar and soothing voice of John Mayer.

Once the song had ended, everything was so clear to me. It all clicked.

My relationship with Evan had been suffering a long time. Way longer than I cared to believe myself. There were problems. Small problems, but problems nonetheless. Problems that should have been addressed a long time ago.

Sitting there in my moment of clarity, I wondered what exactly I should do now.

This was a really fun prompt to write…it took awhile to get rolling, but once I did, everything flowed. Give this prompt a try!