Someone I Loved

Unknown Speaker

Welcome back to Life Lyrics, everyone. I’m Emily, and I am sitting here with the one and only Paul—though, after all these episodes, you’re probably more like a familiar voice than a distant songwriter by now! Paul, tonight, oh my god, I can feel the mood already—late-night Paris, heartbreak, those memories that, well, sneak up on you when the world goes quiet. I have to ask, do you always write songs with this confessional, midnight Paris vibe? How much is the city—its streets, its loneliness—woven into what you felt when writing 'Someone I Loved'?

Paul

You know, it’s funny… I think people imagine Paris is just this city of love, lights, champagne, and, I don’t know, endless croissants. But, honestly, what I find about Paris—especially after midnight—is that it’s actually a city full of ghosts. There’s something about the quiet cobblestones… you can hear your own heart, your regrets, even louder. When I wrote 'Someone I Loved,' I was sitting in this, um, tiny little café, just off Rue des Martyrs, and I saw this elderly couple—they were holding hands under the streetlamp, not really saying anything, just… sort of, surviving together, you know? And I—I started wondering, what about the people they once loved and lost? What heartbreaks were they carrying with them, in the shadows? That’s when the first line sort of slipped out—just me, my notebook, and the feeling that Paris is a place where old love stories never really die. They just get, like, quieter, but somehow heavier, in the quiet.

Unknown Speaker

Oh, I love that so much. I always say—well, maybe too often, sorry listeners—that Paris isn’t only lovely in the sunlight, it’s, honestly, almost more honest in the dark. It makes every little ache, every memory, almost cinematic. So, as you sat in that café, was it nostalgia, or just plain loneliness, that made everything feel a bit raw?

Paul

Mm, honestly? Both. There’s nostalgia for sure, but it’s also that, um, kind of loneliness that makes you face things you usually hide from. In the daylight, you can distract yourself—work, friends, whatever—but in those late hours, it’s all stripped away. The song’s confessional tone was me owning up to the ghosts I was carrying.

Unknown Speaker

I want to—actually, I need to—share the chorus with everyone, because this is the moment that just… oh, it lands like a punch and a hug at the same time. It goes: 'Now you're someone I loved, but couldn't hold. A heart once warm, now quietly cold. You left with reasons I can’t deny. Some were yours, and some were mine.'

Unknown Speaker

It just aches, doesn’t it? There’s no blame, no big drama, just this acceptance. Paul, is that the heart of the song—loss without anger? That, sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is remember honestly, not rewrite history?

Paul

Yeah, you hit it exactly. I—I never wanted this song to sound bitter. I think, you know, there are breakups with fireworks and yelling and all that, but most endings… they’re much quieter. They end with a sigh, not a bang. The weight isn’t about who did what, it’s about accepting: this was real, we tried, and some loves just, well, aren’t meant to survive. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t *everything* at the time. There’s a sort of tenderness in admitting that you both, you know… did your best, and it just wasn’t enough to hold on.

Unknown Speaker

You’re reminding me of—oh, this is embarrassing—a wedding vow I once wrote for a bride. It was all about love surviving storms, staying, you know, through thick and thin. But when I hear 'I miss you out loud,' it’s like, sometimes, loving someone means letting them go because you’ve given all you can. That shaping isn’t failure, it’s…—it’s growth, maybe?

Paul

Yeah, absolutely. And this echoes what we discussed in our episode about 'Me and My Broken Heart,' right? How sometimes healing means accepting loss, not disguising it as something else. I feel like this song is my way of saying: if love can leave a scar, maybe it’s proof we were truly alive—at least for a moment. The weight you can’t hold onto is the same weight that makes you who you are now.

Unknown Speaker

You said once—actually, I think it was ages ago when we were talking about 'I Finally Found You'—that breakups can become the ground we stand on when we, you know, dare to love again. So, with 'Someone I Loved,' did you have a certain breakup in mind, or is it about all those invisible scars we carry into the next chapter?

Paul

It’s both, to be honest. It started with something really personal, but while writing it, I realised it—um, it’s almost a universal prayer. Everyone has that person they, like… loved fiercely but couldn’t keep. Those heartbreaks, they don’t vanish—they sort of, quietly sit in your heart, almost tenderly. They shape how open you become with someone new. One lyric, 'We ran out of places to forgive,'—I mean, that’s about loving so hard, forgiving so many times, that you just… reach the edge. Even people with the softest hearts can hit empty. I always get people writing in about that line.

Unknown Speaker

That’s—oh, hang on, I’m trying not to tear up! I, um, see it with the couples I work with, too. Sometimes, letting go isn't about anger, is it? It’s about compassion for both people, respecting the journey, even if it ended.

Paul

Yeah, exactly. And you know, recently, a listener messaged me—she was a bride, actually. She’d played this song the night before her wedding… not as a goodbye, but as a kind of, uh, honouring. She wanted to acknowledge who she’d been before she walked down the aisle. That really hits me, honestly. It proves these songs—these stories—aren’t just about heartbreak. They’re about, I don’t know, making peace with our past before saying yes to our future. Like, you can love more bravely if you’ve learned to miss someone out loud.

Unknown Speaker

Wow, I mean… that’s such a full circle moment. Okay, I need a cup of tea—maybe a hug, too. Paul, thank you for opening all these doors tonight. I feel like, before vows, there are all these shadowy love stories that make the promises real. And now our listeners, well, you’re part of that journey, too.

Paul

Thank you, Emily, and thank you, everyone out there listening—whether you’re missing someone tonight or holding onto new love. These stories, these echoes… they’re where our real lives begin. We’ll be back soon with more stories behind the songs. Until then, take care of your hearts, yeah?

Unknown Speaker

Couldn’t have said it better. Goodnight, Paul. Goodnight, everyone—see you for the next chapter.