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This girl has done nothing to me, but her slight resemblance to Eden is enough. All the anger pours out of me in her general direction. Finally, a release. Years of pent-up hurt and betrayal find an outlet, and I fix this random girl with my eyes and let the venom take over.
I’m surprised at how quickly the pain turns to anger, the anger into hate.
I did not know that about myself. But as the song keeps going, this darkness descends on me, weighing me down, and no matter how I croon or scream the lyrics, it won’t let go. I lose myself in the eyes of the not-my-girl girl, I lose myself in the memories, I lose myself in the loss.
And the darkness pulls me under.
The fans are singing along as it happens, barely noticing the difference: I’ve never sungHeartbreakerlike this before. I always sing it soft and sad and heartbreaking. But now I’m fierce and hard and venomous, and some of them are beginning to see it on my face, to hear it in my voice.
The change excites them, and they go along with it, getting even crazier with their singing. But I keep looking at the girl and waiting for my head to break the surface, waiting to breathe–I never do. The song is almost over and the release I was chasing is nowhere in sight.
I slow the words and try to let the melody drown out the pain, to take me to a good place, but instead it comes out bitter and cruel, the words rolling around my tongue like weapons. And all this time, I’m staring at the girl, this poor innocent fan who has no idea what is going on inside my head, no idea what she’s started.
I feel the crowd freeze, mesmerized by this new interpretation of their favorite song. They’re hanging from my lips as I pour out the agony and pain of four endless years in the music. My guitar screams, my voice cracks, my vocal cords stretch to the limits of their abilities, and still I go on, my features transformed, my throat roped with veins.
Where’s that band aid now
To put me back together?
Where’s your hand now
That used to fit in mine?
Come back, heartbreaker
Come break me some more
Heartbreaker
breaker of hearts
Breaker of mine
Heartbreaker
breaker of hearts
Breaker of souls
Heartbreaker
Heartbreaker
heartbreaker
Cathartic.
That’s whatHeartbreakerwas supposed to be.
But instead of a catharsis, all I get is to relive the pain of losing her, of being left behind, broken and confused. The song is pain incarnate on my lips.
And then I see it: every singer’s worst nightmare.
A girl is falling.
The breath dies in my chest as I exhale the song's last word.
Not just any girl. It's the girl I’ve been singing the song to. The same girl who reminded me ofherso badly I stumbled and lost my voice. Nearly lost my mind.
