I’m a big fan of dating, relationships, and everything in between. I have been ever since I was a kid. I wasn’t the kid who made fun of girls, pushing them in the sandbox and accusing them of a cootie infestation. Oh, no. I was the one writing sweet, sweet poetry to them:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
It’s be cool
To sit on the swing with you.
The older I got, the more profound in my professions of love I became: I gave girls roses instead of commenting on their color. Instead of sitting on a swing, it was the cafeteria eating lunch together.
For a long time, I think I was significantly more interested in the concept of relationships that really having one. I love love. I love the attention it brings. I wanted to be the kid with the steady Homecoming and Prom date, never having to scramble to get a girl two years younger than me to begrudgingly accompany me to the dance (Autumn Lotze and Jenny Horst, yes, both sophomores).
Clearly, let’s not forget about making out. I’m not even talking about the first kiss, as beautiful as it is.
It’s the hooking up!
The chance to kiss someone for an extended period of time!
All of this came to my mind as I heard the song “Call Me When You Get This” by Corinne Bailey Rae. Over an ample string arrangement and great R&B groove, Rae sings about what about the man she loves (she’s married, so unfortunately it’s not about me). Each time I hear this song, I get emotional. As in fuzzy and sweet inside emotional. Swinging on a first grade swingset fuzzy. Read this:
I just wanted to know what it was like, what’s it really like to be loved?
These little volcanoes came as a surprise to me.
I never thought I could be this way…
Now I just want you to know, how I’m touched deep in my soul.
Just being with you.
It grieves me, friends, when I hear your stories about your relationships, because they don’t seem anything like this. My relationships aren’t even like this. The best I have are clichéd quatrains. Hearing this song grieves me, because it seems like Rae understands something about her object of affection beyond what I’ve experienced. I hear it in her voice.
It seems we’ve become far to willing to settle for small yet guaranteed pleasure of right now, instead of hoping for the grand pleasure of later. Sure, making out’s great, but the walk back to your place the morning after isn’t. Something tells me what Corinne Bailey Rae has (with what I assume is her husband) won’t lead to that walk of shame. It’s something more, something that, unfortunately, won’t fit in this week’s column. That might be part of the problem in the end.
We want the answer for love in 500 words or less.