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I'm all lost now
I'm all lost now
I'm all lost from you
Don't wake me
Don't lose me
Don't forget me
Don’t break me any more
I can't take it
No, I'm all lost now
I'm lost away from you
The audience and I get carried away by the melody, like stray boats tossed around by a wave. The melody ofHeartbreakeris complicated: it’s all simple chord sequences strung together, and then it suddenly hits you with a minor chord, right in the gut. My brother, James, always says that the most genius music is quite simple to play, but not simple to compose. That’sHeartbreaker. It broke me to compose it and it completely annihilated me to write the lyrics to it. But every time I sing it, it’s therapy—and apparently, not only for me but for many other people as well.
Even though I have sung it and rehearsed it to within an inch of its life, it still breaks me every single time I sing it.
But tonight, my mind is barely on the lyrics. It’s forgotten the music.
Tonight, my mind is on her, and not just because I wrote this song for her.
I thought I saw her in the audience.
I thought I saw Eden.
Eden, the girl who broke me.
The girl who has my heart, the girl I need to take it back from.
My heartbreaker.
…
Of course, it's just an illusion.
I’ve imagined her again. I used to think I saw her outside every venue I played at for years. Since the beginning, actually. I remember I had this vivid hallucination of seeing her sharp, straight black hair outside that tiny basketball court I sang publicly for the first time ever.
It hadn’t been Eden then, as it’s not Eden now.
That was when I knew I was truly going mad.
She had broken my brain as well as my heart—something that’s become common knowledge since then.
The hold this girl's ghost has on me, I swear. Even the sight of a random girl who looks slightly like her is enough to bring me to my knees.
But, of course, this girl isn't Eden. She can't be. I saw her before as well, and it did remind me of Eden then as well, but one more careful look tells me all I need to know. This girl is not Eden. She is too tall, too full, standing up too straight, too… Too different. Too unbroken. And her hair is the wrong color. But something pulls me to look in her direction once more and I make the mistake of giving in to the urge. The minute our gazes meet across the stage, I swear a zap of electricity runs through my whole body.
It's her eyes. Somehow this girl has Eden's eyes. She's watching me sing ‘heartbreaker, heartbreaker’ with no expression on her face, no movement. Nothing. Around her, people scream and dance and wave their phones, but she is completely still, just watching me.
Listening to me.
And for a moment, I let myself imagine it's her. That I can finally tell her what she did. It’s not really her, it can’t be: she doesn't look like Eden, except for the eyes, and besides, there is no way she’d show her face to one of my concerts after what she did to me.
