Listening to Sara Bareilles’ new album The Blessed Unrest is a special kind of heart-wrenching. She had always been so good at expressing, evoking and recreating ache. A turn of phrase or a group of chords could recall precisely the things my heart has weathered and understands my little losses and spaces even before I knew how to give words to them myself. This brilliance moves me in a way that just reaches deep inside and pulls everything out, the good, bad, ugly and at the end I’m just completely spilled open. How terrible but how exquisite.
One of the songs in Sara’s new album is Manhattan, and it perfectly conveys my personal brand of a recent break-up.
Some break-ups are messy and crazy and emotional and simply gut-wrenching. Mine was amiable, loving and full of goodwill. It was the end of a long period of companionship and love that simply had run its course. And most importantly, it was as much a leaning on each other as it was a separation.
So you know, he can have Manhattan. (Our very own bright lights & our own long nights.)
Cos I can’t have you.