I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing
This pop song by The Script provides an excellent snapshot of what we go through immediately following a rejection. Any schlockiness that comes across simply reflects the schlock inherent to the experience itself. If I sound surprised, it’s because a year of listening to Top 40 radio has taught me that 95% of popular music is written for the sensibilities of a high school girl with a B-/C+ average. But this song comes off as pretty genuine to me.
She’s moved on while I’m still grieving
Being rejected by someone you love is so, so damn hard. It makes you sit alone in your jammies at 3:00 in the afternoon crying your eyes out, unsure where the day went.
What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re ok
All the while, you’re picturing her out with someone else, having the Best Time Ever. That was supposed to be your lifetime of happy memories! What is an imposter doing taking over your lovelife?
What am I going to do when the best part of me was always you
Rejection like that makes us think the least of ourselves. We critique every move, every utterance we ever made. If you had just been vigilant enough to project the other person’s platonic ideal of a mate, you wouldn’t be in this miserable position right now!
When a heart breaks, it don’t break even
Oh, the sheer injustice of it all! Somehow, when you’re in the middle of it, it seems genuinely impossible that someone you love so. damn. much. doesn’t return the feeling. As if it must contradict of a law of physics or something.
I’m falling to pieces
Rejection is universal. Anyone who claims never to have been rejected is either lying or stupid (as in, they were rejected but were too obtuse to realize it). An indicator of the universality of this feeling: the plethora of amateur covers of this song that you can find on YouTube. Here’s the best one of the bunch:
The superior recording equipment certainly puts this one over the top, but there’s no denying that Maddi Jane’s got some chops on her!