There’s no best way to mend a broken heart. But one band says that going through six degrees of separation may just be the most painful yet wisest thing to get over a heartache.

The band also believes that music heals the soul. And I absorb this philosophy through the band’s songs.

My almost decade-long obsession with The Script reached its pinnacle at the SM Mall of Asia (MOA) Arena when I watched, for the first time, the band perform live. It’s an obsession that spans high-school puppy love, the times I’ve explored the capacities and limits of the human heart, and moments when the universe would conspire to knock me down.

Entering the MOA Arena, I did a calendar check; it was not Feb. 14, not the day my heart broke and realized that love is not as easy as chick flicks led me to believe. But nostalgia seeped in when I heard the first notes of “Breakeven.”

The crowd got on its feet and went wild. I was glad to immerse in a cathartic experience.

Parade

True enough, just like love, the first part was a parade.

Imagine neon-green flags leading frontman Danny O’Donoghue, his right fist pumping in the air, with guitarist Mark Sheehan and drummer Glen Power in a marching entrance before they opened with “Paint the Town Green,” a track from the band’s latest album “No Sound Without Silence.”

Scattered around to light up the venue, the flags helped heighten the excitement of the audience. The band’s magnetic presence easily brought the house down.

The festive mood continued in “Hail Rain or Shine,” also from “No Sound…” And the chairs were no longer useful.

But the “parade” had to end.

Green lights were replaced by hearts flashed on the video screens. The crowd instantly recognized the intro to the next song, which left us with only two options: Feel the sadness and pain in the song, or let go and just sing along to the lyrics.

Many chose to do the second one.

Hope in desperation

A friend once narrated how her boyfriend got through their breakup by playing The Script’s songs on loop (including a partial reenactment of “Nothing”). No surprise, since the band is best known for its postbreakup music.

And this is where the sense of catharsis comes in. The Script’s songs not only sound like a friend giving advice on how to get over a former flame; they likewise capture the words welling up in one’s chest.

These are songs that speak of hope in desperation, of clarity in confusion, allowing you to get a grip on your feelings.

That night, the audience let those feelings spill over. “Breakeven,” the first track from the band’s “hugot list,” had fans singing along: “What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you?” The band knew that it’s OK to fall into pieces … sometimes.

“Before the Worst” was a worthy follow-up. When acceptance begins, the band teaches us to completely let go of the baggage from the past.

But of course, there are people who simply “Can’t be Moved.” The band played its most famous hit on the side stage just inches away from the Lower Box section, after a piano version of “Never Seen Anything Quite Like You.” A mellow rendition of “The Man Who Can’t Be Moved” nonetheless caught the emotions of the heartbroken, as well as those who just “got over.”

Danny, Mark and Glen walked back to the main stage to do “Six Degrees of Separation” and “It’s Not Right For You.” Then the lights went out to signal the concert’s end.

But the crowd wouldn’t leave and screamed for more. Everyone knew we could use some waiting, just like in love. The patience paid off; the band came back and rewarded us with a powerful encore.

Moved to tears

But if there’s one song that almost moved me to tears, it’s “For the First Time.” Hearing the song live hit me in two ways.

First, I couldn’t help but trace reflections of the band members’ struggles when they started out broke, as almost all musicians do, especially in countries with a poor population. Second, the kind of love that triumphs over real-world adversities (poverty, unemployment, challenges of a complex society) is more than admirable.

That’s why when Danny asked the audience to sing the song to him, I gladly joined the rest: “Oh these times are hard … yeah they’re making us crazy … don’t give up on me baby!” Because I have yet to find someone who wouldn’t.

When Mark and Danny asked everybody to dial one’s ex-girlfriend or ex-boyfriend’s number, I awkwardly stared at my phone for a while.

Danny called a fan’s ex and asked him to stay on the line; then he proceeded to sing the first lines from “Nothing”: “Am I better off dead? Am I better off a quitter? They say I’m better off now than I ever was with her…”

Others dialed their ex’s number to let them hear the “anthem of the broken-hearted.” I almost followed suit. Then the dreaded part of the song’s chorus resonated: “I’m still in love but all I heard was nothing…” That’s when I knew my phone would have to rest quietly in my closed fist.

I don’t need to do the same thing anymore. And I never did. There’s “no sound without silence,” as what The Script taught me.

Heavyweight pop

“I wish I could go up there but I’m afraid of heights,” Mark told the audience at the upper sections.

It was also in this context that he expressed why he treats the band’s video of its latest single, “Man on a Wire,” as a personal victory.

“Be careful of the songs you write,” he joked, as video shots of each of them standing on dangerous heights were flashed on the screen.

Certainly, the band’s passion for their own songs makes the tunes not only relatable but also believable. “The song is about building a bridge,” Mark said. “And every little step counts.”

This metaphor is also a testament that The Script’s music, though pop, is heavyweight—some of the songs will prick your heart while others will motivate your soul.

“Superheroes” served as a tribute to unsung heroes—ordinary workers left unrecognized in society. It was another anthem that further cemented The Script’s ability to deal with social and political themes.

Danny divided the audience into two for a shout-fest of “We Cry,” followed by “If You Could See Me Now,” in which we were reminded to “take that rage, put it in a page, take the page to the stage, blow the roof off the place.”

And because “The Energy Never Dies” during a Script concert, those who witnessed the band’s outstanding performance will surely remember it to be one of the “Good Ol’ Days.”

For the finale, “Hall of Fame,” Danny asked the crowd to use their phones for another purpose: Create something they’ll remember for the rest of their lives.

“You can’t get those things if you stay on your phone,” said Danny. “So, for this one song, just live in the moment, yeah?”

Everyone agreed, and the entire arena was enveloped by lights from the phones. We began to sing: “You could be the greatest. You could be the best.” And that night, we believed we could.