Sunday, September 7, 2008

Music and Lyrics

I am going to apologize for this post before I even begin it. For all of you who are not into somewhat pathetic, adolescent romance or who are likely to throw up at the mere suggestion of the age old scenario of “girl meets boy, girl likes boy, girl thinks about boy and wishes for more than a platonic relationship”, I suggest that you skip this post and return to my blog in a couple of weeks, when I am sure I will have written another far more cynical, saccharine-free post – most likely about some more death-defying moments on the M1 highway.

For those of you who have chosen to keep reading however… You have no one to blame but yourselves!

For the record, I don’t generally like posting “stuff” about my relationships – I can’t stand people who brag about how awesomely wonderfully fantastic their sweetie honey-bear significant other is. I also can’t handle long posts by the “desperate and dateless” contingent, as they bemoan yet another Saturday night spent at home by themselves. I’d like to think that my situation is at least a little different, although I’m not so sure about it.

So, I like a boy. It has been a long time since I have found someone who I like this much and who is incidentally a real person (I frequently fall for movie and TV characters, as well as lines in emo songs). I will not bore you with descriptions or details of his looks or personality – for your own sanity, and for fear that he may read this post. Nonetheless, he is lovely, and the kind of boy-person I would like to refer to as my “boyfriend” – if I may be so bold as to use that term. Oddly enough, I would probably also settle for him just knowing that I like him and him being okay with me liking him, because I am a little nervous of rocking the boat, and that is why I have not told him how I feel.

Before this gets any more nauseating, I will get to the point of this post. Basically, I was driving home the other day, thinking about the relationship between him and I and wondering what will come of it all, when a song came onto the radio that ironically epitomized my situation. The song is by a South African band called Freshlyground, and it’s called “I’d Like”:


What would you do if I kissed you?


What would you do if I held your hand and laid you down?

Would you find me overly familiar towards you? Would you call me insensitive, and say that I deserve to die?

What do I do with all these feelings tearing me up inside?

What do I do with all these wasted hours dreaming of you at night?



I'd like to call you sometime…



What would you do if you knew the truth?

What would you do if I told you the story of my life?

Would you find me overly familiar towards you?

Would you call me crude, fling me aside to the birds?

What do I do with all these feelings holding me back inside?

What do I do with all these wasted hours dreaming of you at night?



I'd like to call you sometime.

I'd like you to need me one time.

I’d like to call you sometime.



What would you do if I kissed you?

What would you do if I held your hand and laid you down?

Would you recognize it’s a need I've been fighting for so long? Would you recognize it’s a hunger only you can fill?

What do I do with all these feelings warming me up inside?

What do I do with all these precious hours dreaming of you at night?



I'd like to call you sometime.

I'd like you to need me one time I'd like to have you all the time.

I'd like to call you...”


So, there you have it. I don’t know what he would do if I kissed him, or if I just told him how I feel. Admittedly, the situation is not quite as romantic as the song itself, but it comes pretty close. I have no game plan at this point – just lots of uncertainty as I wonder about the situation. All I know is that if he asked me out, I would say yes.