"Baby really hurt me,"
Four words tinged with urgency, you're so hasty to admit you're hurt, you're so rushed you forget this isn't a 3 a.m. diary entry, this is a high production ode to us: heartbroken teenage girls who feel like they're growing up too fast. We magnify the world in our hearts and you broadcast it all over the world. Melodrama isn't a break-up album, it is a warning to the world. Frida Kahlo knew what she was doing when she hung up her selfies in the world's greatest museums, Lorde knew what she was doing when she celebrated her heartbreak in Jungle City.
Through Melodrama Lorde raises the ever-ending riddle of identity: Who am I really when I'm alone? Who am I when I'm not this little emo teenage girl with big hair, who am I when I'm not his girlfriend?
But you're not who you thought you were. Lorde breaks up with adolescence through and ode to schoolgirl crushes, a celebration of our acne-ridden faces and our crying hearts, break up anthems and piano ballads. A massacre of our hearts, eleven tracks who don't know exactly what they want to be, a songstress who doesn't even want to know, especially not when nothing is permanent at 19. Lorde finds her power in simplicity, finds her strength in vulnerability.
I miss you but I also miss myself. We're reading Ella's 3 a.m. diary entries, her voice so intimate we're waiting for her to switch into conversation. To comfort me when I miss him, when I'm writing all these poems about him, immortalising him between pages and pages of 3 a.m. diary entries.
"I care for myself the way I used to care about you," this line taunted me all summer long, I wanted to get back together with her, I broke up with myself to be with him.
I light all the candles and get flowers for all my rooms, understand that Ella is not an example to follow but a friend who will hold your hand all summer long. We will go out drinking together, become the stars of the dancefloor with our broken hearts and awkward bodies, everyday we're growing little by little. Everyday we're learning how and where to love. Maybe this is the party; the tears and the highs we bring.
But we're not who we thought we were. We're not who you made us believe to be, we're not what we were trying to be. I'm breaking up with him, with my ghost, this melodramatic teenager who falls in love too fast and who cries over acne.
Frida Kahlo knew what she was doing when she hung up her selfies in the world's greatest art museums, Lorde knew what she was doing when she broadcasted her heartbreak throughout the world. Maybe heartbreak is meant to be celebrated. Maybe everything I'm feeling is realer than anybody wants to admit.
Teenage girls- we aren't scared anymore. Melodram isn't a break up album, it is a warning.
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wrote this when melodrama was released but i feel like i want this out in the world
