I used to date this girl named Kelly.
We had a pretty nasty break-up. Then she came out with this song that is ostensibly directed toward me, called “Stronger.” (The title is a reference to her resilience, not mine.) It paints me in a pretty unflattering light, one I don’t particularly agree with.
I should’ve seen this coming, given her musical catalog. “Behind These Hazel Eyes,” “Since You Been Gone,” “Mr. Know It All” and “Because Of You” are all break-up songs that totally and completely blame the man. I find it hard to believe she’s been so grossly mistreated so many times. Especially because, you know, she’s rich and famous, so other regular guys like me are probably really nice to her. At least I thought I was, anyway.
Since I’m not a pop star with a worldwide captive audience, I’ve decided to take to this public forum to respond to some of the lyrics in “Stronger.” (I have no qualms with the music. Girl’s got producers who make jams so catchy that I can’t help flailing around in my car like I’m being tickled by an invisible man whenever I hear them.)
***
You know, the bed feels warmer, sleeping here alone.
It stands to reason that a bed would be warmer if there were two living human bodies in it. It might feel warmer now that she’s sleeping solo because Kelly holds warmth about as well as I hold jobs. (It’s the economy, and yes this was a point of contention during our relationship, but we can’t all win American fucking Idol, especially if you specialize in muffler replacement), and when she was passed out after her eighth margarita I’d creep out of bed and turn on the air conditioning so that the pool of taint sweat I was lying in didn’t reach my shoulder blades.
You know I dream in color, and do the things I want.
Most people dream in color. That has nothing to do with our break-up that, by the way, she initiated because I forgot the anniversary of the day we met. Which was when I was working at Grease Monkey in Burbank and gave her a discount because “Break Away” was my jam at the time.
You think you got the best of me, think you’ve had the last laugh. Bet you think everything good is gone.
Maybe I wouldn’t think that if she didn’t eat all of the delicious food within the first 30 hours of our grocery shopping trips. So yes, I suspect that at least food-wise, everything good is gone. If she’s talking about all of the good being taken from her life in my absence, well I never thought that. She’s a multi-millionaire, so that’s one good thing. And she has a nice rack, her singing voice isn’t so bad, she gets to be on a TV show with Robin Thicke, etc.
Think that I’d come running back/Baby you don’t know me, ‘cause you’re dead wrong.
She was the one laughing maniacally as I sprinted out the door after she threw a plate of spaghetti at my head. Just because some broad did it to Don Draper doesn’t mean I’m going to allow it to happen to me. And I didn’t think she’d come running back until she started phoning me repeatedly at all hours of the night and asking for another chance.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, stand a little taller/Doesn’t mean I’m lonely when I’m alone/What doesn’t kill you makes a fighter, footsteps even lighter/Doesn’t mean I’m over ‘cause you’re gone.
You don’t get stronger or taller from all things that happen to you that don’t kill you. Take mono, for example. I had mono six years ago and I still don’t feel like fighting anything. Mono did, however, make me lighter, although that’s only because I didn’t eat for three weeks. But our break-up didn’t do that for me; I sat around eating ice cream and Chinese food (mixed, usually) for a solid week. Not sure what she did, but if she started working out incessantly then I suppose her footsteps are lighter.
You heard that I was starting over with someone new/They told you I was moving on, and over you/You didn’t think that I’d come back, I’d come back swingin’/You try to break me but you see…Chorus.
I’m not a sociopath. When we broke things off, I wasn’t trying to break her so that she would never date anybody again. Christ. I’m not OJ Simpson.
Thanks to you I got a new thing started, thanks to you I’m not the broken-hearted.
I’ve got no objection here. If it weren’t for me she never would have met my barber Rog, who is her boyfriend now and as such tells me he can’t cut my hair any longer. Conflict of interest.
Thanks to you I’m finally thinkin’ ‘bout me.
Says the woman who wouldn’t even let me turn on the air conditioning for a measly 15 minutes because it would make her chilly.
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