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How it Feels to be Thick as a Brick:

The Danger of Being a "Hopeless Romantic" (and the Music that Proves it)

Music sweet music/I wish I could caress, caress, caress/Manic depression’s a frustrating mess.--Jimi

The world was on fire No one could save me but you. Awww. Sounded so mushy gushy perfect, when ya fell for him—The One. Sounded so beautiful, so right, didn’t it? He was sooo attentive and he was sooo good in bed and he bought you this and courted you that and he said he was never letting you go for the rest of your life and he was sooo ohhhhhh. His smell was a man and pheromone delight that made you ache to eat his air. His long lashed eyes were firm yet laughing. He tasted like rain. And he adored you, found the best made, best played songs of all time and so you swooned and gurgled and gooed till you felt guilty that quite possibly you had sucked all the happiness from the planet all for you, while millions, only the lonely, searched so desperately for the love you piggly wallowed in. Spring was not cruel but a mud fresh freedom you breathed in and tingled over. Ho ho. Back up, girly. That first great love line of music? That oh so glibglub absolute in spoon croon? It’s a Chris Isaac classic that may start with a gorgeous love line, but get a clue, girlfriend: within a note or two it turns to the haunting daunting real deal, the real message of the song: No—I don’t wanna fall in love/with you. This was your song, you say? He played it every time you two were together? Tsk. Were you even paying attention? Did you see that big ol’ red flag there? No? Oh, c’mon now. You did though you didn’t see him hug the waitress on your second date. You did though you didn’t hear him say he was young and wanted to enjoy his youth. You did and you didn’t hear him tell you he would not compromise, even in theory, as you giggled and giddied your way through talks of your future coming fast at you. You minimized the no give on his part when it came to babies. And houses. And caring for his parents. You didn’t hear what he was saying because you were hearing your own sounds, romantic throwback themes which flipped like an old tabletop jukebox from deeper and deeper in love with you I’m fallin’ to Won’t you help me I’m bent/I’m so scared that I’ll never get put back together, as if he was some kind of Clark Kent Superman of love and you a miserable pile of not and nothing to be whipped away on the clouds till the eyes rolled back in your head the way you always thought they would when at last [your] love has come along. Tsk. You pitiful pitiful thing.

You were asking for it, you know. Asking for the stolid refuge of his grounded deep and his grounded sane which was not so much the stolid or solid you knew and didn’t know but needed, but more a stubborn hard mountain of refusal. In week one, even. Week one, for Chrissake. Oh, yes, you must have been asking for it. Asking for the quiet of codependency and the rush of the possibility of enmeshment that can’t possibly exist anywhere else but in song.

Yes. But. You drove on, didn’t you? Just had to run right over the sticky finger flagpoles of caveat and yield. Just had to race, windy and afire, past the signs of Stop/in the name of love/before you break my heart songs, straight into the crash and burn pits of broken dates and fractured hearts and songs turned How can I just let you walk away/let you leave without a trace?...as you gave in to the awww, crap, and slumped your head to the weary steering wheel, the only intact steel, whimpering at Every now and then I fall apart/Every now and then I fall apart…. Cause yes, you needed him then more than ever, and that became your denial dream mantra cause he was so. And so. And he. And he. And how could you live, you thought, if livin’ was without…?

You dropped your head in drama and spied the two solitary age spots on your right hand and thought maybe that was it. That was why he left, and if you got plastic surgery… Or maybe if you lost some weight, got your stomach stapled, sandblasted the pockmarks of time from your grizzled visage. Or, maybe, if you changed your laugh your gut your heart your ways your dusting methods your social laugh your smoking. That’s it, you eureka. You’ll revamp and then he’ll one day run into you (maybe even with your new boyfriend!) at Video Magic or Sears and he’ll gasp and sputter at the transformation and subsequent realization he never should have left and will beg you. Beg you. With a little Elvis or Willie to you to win you back: Maybe I didn’t hold you all those lonely lonely nights/and I guess I never told you I’m so happy that you’re mine/Little things.
But instead you run into him and he is forty pounds thinner and gorgeous. He’s happy as hell and buying a house and gotta run cause he’s off to meet his new woman who has opened doors no one’s ever opened he says, and as you drive away defeated, Jolene Jolene Jolene.

I'm begging of you please don't take my man is on the radio and you belt it out through a sore strained throat of loss and self-pity you are sure you will die from.

To hell with that. As the Nor’easters would tell you, you’ve got to get off this pity pwot. Get off the victim hit list. Yes, yes, love’s been rough on you. Boohoo. But conjur up the hard you wanted in him, become hard yourself, and sing it, sister: I am a rock, and I’m rollin’ away. He wasn’t so great. Your love wasn’t all that. I’m here/to remind you…Love Stinks. In fact you have got to figure out a way to sneak into his house and pee in his bed. Or his gas tank. Yes, dear girl, the ghosts of our love have dried. There’s no use faking it. And there’s no sense in blaming yourself. He’s the one that bolted. He’s the the the…
Oh, but then again, he was a lovely child of God and give. He was sensitive, usually, and he did buy you that TV you needed when your old one blew on Elvis retrospective week so you could watch Blue Hawaii and GI Blues, and he did take you to look at engagement rings when the others had been so reticent, and he did rub your back and hold your hair when you threw up stress. And oh. Oh/ baby please take me back. I can’t live if livin’ is without you…. And besides, you two can see each other casually, for I can’t live if livin’ is without you….You’re not seeing anyone. I can’t live if livin’ is without you…. and that emerald-eyed Joeline blew him off I can’t live if livin’ is without you….so you know he needs you like the flowers need the rain; you know he needs you like the winter needs the spring, so you can handle it. You guys can do it, can just be good friends. Just for companionship. Just for a little sex now and then. Just.
No. No effin’ way. He called and you made plans and he blew you off and ragged you when you tried to express your disappointment and just reminded you of why you broke up and you have. had. enough. Freedom/Start walkin’/Keep on your toes and don’t you stop….

But then you miss him. Again. And you’re desperate and pissed and desperate and crying tell me what it takes to let you go/tell me how the pain’s supposed to go/tell me how it is that you can sleep in the night without thinking you lost everything that was good in your life to the toss of the diiiiice….

And so what if the song is about letting go of booze and drugs. And so what you don’t make the comparison till it’s too late and you get how you might not have been as in love as addicted. Still immediate and needy, you play the songs. Over and over you play I know you’ve lost your faith in me/but I still believe, eating cliché bars of Dove and chocolate white and gloopy homemade onion dip and thick corn chips, till the chest cracking pains begin—probably not love gone pain; more likely too much sucrose, too much fat. But do you stop the hurts so good self-flagellation? Of course not. You wheeze spuutter-cough, choking on the cry and chocolate macadamia nut concoction, tubes constricting, thinking this is it. You are gonna die here alone and he’ll be so sorry. That’ll teach him. Teach him good. Teach him so he’ll never love again.

Yep. That’s it. That’s love. That’s breaking. It’s flipping more than flop and dreaming along with drop and it’s I don’t want to be in love but you’re makin’ me and it’s a heartache. Nothin’ but a heartache. And you’ll be doing it again soon. Cause. I don’t know. He’s sooo. Doo lang doo lang.


About The Author

Roxanne McDonald is a successful writer and provider of excellent tips and advice on dating services and tenn dating, adult dating and senior dating. Her numerous articles offer valuable insight into the world of online dating.

Heartbreak Discography [in order of vacillation]

Jethro Tull. Thick as a Brick. Thick as a Brick. LP. Reprise Records, 1972.
Hendrix, Jimi. “Manic Depression.” Are You Experienced? LP. MCA, 1967.
Issac, Chris. “Wicked Game”. Heart Shaped World. Cassette. Warner Brothers, 6 June 1989.
Orbison, Roy. “Only the Lonely.” Lonely and Blue. LP. Monument Records, June 1961.
Issac, Chris. “Wicked Game”. Heart Shaped World. Cassette. Warner Brothers, 6 June 1989.
White, Barry. “I’m Gonna Love You Just a Little More Baby.” I’ve Got So Much to Give. LP. Casablanca, 1973.
Matchbox 20. “Bent.” Mad Season. CD. Atlantic, 21 May 2000.
The Supremes. “Stop! In the Name of Love.” More Hits by the Supremes. LP. Motown, July 1965.
Collins, Phil. “Against All Odds.” Against All Odds. Cassette. Wea/Atlantic.
Tyler, Bonnie. “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Faster Than the Speed of Light. Cassette. Sony/Columbia, 1989.
Nilsson, Harry. “Without You.” Nilsson Schmilsson. LP. RCA, 1973.
Presley, Elvis. “Always on My Mind.” Separate Ways. LP. RCA, 1976.
Parton, Dolly. “Jolene.” Jolene. LP. RCA, 1974.
James, Etta. “Rock.” Love’s Been Rough on Me. CD. BMG/Private, 29 April 1997.
Morissette, Alanis. “You Oughta Know.” Jagged Little Pill. CD. Maverick, 1995.
J. Geils Band, “Love Stinks.” Love Stinks. LP. Capitol Records, 1980.
Smith, Patti. “Revenge.” Wave. LP. Arista, 1975.
Lang, Jonny. “Breakin Me.” Wander This World. CD. A&M Records, 20 October 1998.
Nilsson, Harry. “Without You.” Nilsson Schmilsson. LP. RCA, 1973.
America. “I Need You.” America: The Complete Greatest Hits. Cassette. Rhino Records, 21 Aug. 2001.
Bread. “Mother Freedom.” The Best of Bread. LP. Rhino Records, 1973.
Aerosmith. “What it Takes.” Pump. Cassette. Geffen, 12 Sept. 1989.
Lang, Jonny. “Breakin Me.” Wander This World. CD. A&M Records, 20 October 1998.
Tyler, Bonnie. “It’s a Heartache.” Natural Force. CD. Musicrama, 30 Dec. 1997.
Chiffons. “He’s So Fine.” 45RPM. Laurie Records, Dec. 1962.

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