Thursday, September 27, 2012

but maybe i shouldn't want someone like you.

This is practically a no-brainer, but it's been on my mind lately: I see it on Tumblr at lot, or even Facebook and Twitter and Youtube. There's this tendency, this need to paint Adele's anthem of heartbreak "Someone Like You" as that song that will be the soundtrack for your pain and recovery. Don't get me wrong--it's a beautiful song. Adele sings it beautifully. The music video is beautiful. But I've really grown to resent it over time.

"Never mind, I'll find someone like you"? But why would I want someone like you? ("You" being the guy who pretty callously placed my heart on IKEA floating shelf and then took an ax to the whole damn wall.)

I mean, think about it. This seemingly-perfect guy who made the world feel whole and warm broke Adele's heart, and went off and settled down with some other girl so quickly after telling Adele he didn't want to settle down. Then he went and did it anyways, and it had nothing to do with not wanting to settle down; he just didn't want to settle down with Adele. "I can imagine being about 40 and looking for him again, only to turn up and find that he's settled with a beautiful wife and beautiful kids and he's completely happy," she revealed about the inspiration behind the song, "and I'm still on my own."

That blows.

Have you ever felt like "that person" was embarrassed of you? As if they didn't want you around and didn't want to introduce you to his/her friends or coworkers or family? As if "that person" has this overwhelming need to remove you from his/her life? I bet Adele never got introduced anywhere. I bet Adele would be used and tossed aside. I bet Adele wouldn't have gotten left alone at a Brooklyn subway stop at 3 a.m.

Okay, I'm projecting. I've been deep into the world of Mindy Kaling and Joni Mitchell this week, and it's causing me to dig deep into these personal issues of heartbreak and healing (or, semi-healing). Basically, watch out when you love someone because it'll probably lead you to a pretty dark hole that you--and all the stuff you carry with you as a reminder of that "summer haze" (photos and letters and trinkets and more)--will fall into someday. And if/when you crawl your way out of that whole, don't try to find someone like that person who led you there in the first place.

(Disclaimer: I still love Adele, I promise.)

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