There's just no easy way to go about it and it's exactly what keeps Harry George Johns restless at night and antsy during the daytimes. There's no easy way to not let other people get to you.
One man cannot be an island. It's not an option. You can try, but it's a lost cause, attempting to fortify oneself from the lures and the temptations that come from the people that you meet - willingly or accidentally. They will always make you feel, even when you'd prefer to not feel. They're always going to seduce the voices in your head and stir them up. You'll not be able to shake them or pour them out of your ears, with the rest of the hot wax. They'll not be easily shuffled aside or subtracted from your interiors. You're just going to be stuck with them and their sludge, their residue.
Johns doesn't just deal with heartbreak, but he deals even more with the paralyzing feelings that come way before the heartbreak would ever become an issue. He writes and sings about those moments when you could hear a pin drop, but your nerves are at attention and your heart's beating like a bat.
He sings, "The brave die a thousand deaths/The lonely only hold their breaths/I walk home the longest way/Hold out for something to say," and then, almost resignedly considers wisely, "All you can do is love somebody and hope that they love you back." There's little else more to anything. There's little else more to worry about. You're destined to be wrecked a thousand times over and that might just be this week.