I wish relationships worked like they did when we were younger.
I like you, you like me,
Let’s be together.
No games, no worries, just love.
Obviously, that love we felt back then wasn’t love love.
It wasn’t the kind people write books and make movies about.
Such a simple story would never sell copies or tickets.
But love is still love, no matter what form it’s in.
So let the movies have heartbreaking tales,
Star-crossed lovers doomed to fail from the moment they met.
I want love like a six-year-old,
Where a boy pulls your hair and says you have cooties.
And your mom wipes your tears,
Saying it’s only because he likes you.
And sure enough, the next day you two are married on the playground.
I want love like sixth grade,
Where your friends all giggle about your crush.
But you like him anyway,
Because he thinks you’re pretty despite the frizzy hair and braces.
So you become a couple,
Holding hands at recess and sitting together at lunch.
After that things become complicated.
People play games,
Saying one thing and doing another.
Love is no longer straightforward.
It becomes a roller coaster ride that you’re not even sure you want to be on anymore.