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    Love and War, Love Galore

    In her latest single, ‘Love Galore,” SZA and Travis Scott sing about what they need from love. In the process, SZA poses the question of the summer – year really. The lyrics are simple, yet they encapsulate a sentiment I have often felt.

    “Why you bother me if you know you don’t want me?”

    Why you bother me if you know you don’t want me?
    Snapping. Liking photos. Facetiming. Calling. Texting.

    “Why you bother me if you know you don’t want me?” Better yet, why haven’t I blocked you yet?

    Well, because I’d be lying if I said the attention didn’t feel good. Feel victorious. Make me feel like I won in the end. Even though we both know you’re probably only hitting me up because you’re still after that one thing, that one thing I always gave hoping it would get me more even though it never got me enough. That thing. That thing.

    What is it about us humans and not recognizing when its just a little too late, a little too gone, and past the time when we can wait? I’ll never understand how someone who I would’ve given the world to could’ve missed all the signs but still decides that after the fact would be a good time to try.

    Yes, you read that right – given the world to. World to give. Given. Giving. Sorta receiving? On Tuesday’s. I have this thing where I give when I shouldn’t, before it is time to, and way past when I should’ve stopped. I give because I think it will save me, you, we, us, together. Together. I give because I think it will lead to us together. And on its face there’s nothing wrong with that. Relationships are comprised of give and take. Take. Taking. Always, all ways being taken. 

    “Why you bother me if you know you don’t want me?” Know you still can’t communicate how you feel or what you felt? Know you don’t know what you want?

    What you want. What do you want? I always knew. Known. Knowing.  

    “I need, I need, I need, I need, I need, I need…. love.”

    I was proud of myself for not crying, publicly anyway. Goodbye’s that on one end of the exchange felt more like see you later’s. Moving forward only to be dragged backwards. 

    “Why you bother me? Why you bother me? Why you bother me? Last time I checked you were the one that left me in a wreck, me in a mess.”

    Expiration dates, real, imagined, or created give us the chance to recognize game. Become the captain. Except, the attention from someone once desired feels good until you, me, we, us, together remember that our giving got us no where and everything went to shit.

    It’s easy to know better, hard to be better. Easy to peep game once one’s been put on, harder to adjust accordingly. Hardest because maybe, there’s still a part of you, piece of me, we, us that wants them to want you, me, we, us for real, even though you, me, we, us know in our heart of hearts they never did or really will. 

    That’s why the exchanges leave you, me, we, us with more questions than answers. Because, if the desire was real, it would go beyond the lust and lean towards love. Be followed up by real action. Conversation. Movement. Moments. Electricity. Gibberish. 

    Only, instead of getting all of thee above, we get heartbroken. Heart broken. Breaking. Leaking. Smelling in the street. Except, we don’t get to be mad at you anymore. Because we’re doing it to ourselves. Masochist. Masochism. The pain becomes the only way to stay connected and we somehow convinced ourselves that cutting the ties would hurt more than continuing to run into the wall that is you, me, we, us, attempting to be together. 

    “If you don’t say something, speak up for yourself, they think you stupid!”

    Why are we so afraid of losing things, people, sentiments that have already left? Keeping people, even after they have gone. Being kept. 

    I wish I could keep people without them keeping me. 

    “Why you bother me when you know you don’t want me?” 
    Better yet, why haven’t I blocked you yet?

    Disposable. “I didn’t mean to.” Weekends in darkness and tears all over the room. I’d say you have to let me, we, us, together go, but if we’re being honest, you never had me, we us to begin with. So, in this game of love and war, love galore, it is me, we, us who must do the leaving. 

    Unlearning. Unmeaning. Forgiving. 
    Adjusting. Being. Becoming. 

    “Love, love love, 
    Long as we got love…”

    …love. I think I finally found some. That thing. That thing I wanted from you, me, we, us, together, but never got. Love. Love and war. Love galore. 
    I need, I need, I need, I need, I need, love – 
    just, not from you, me, we, us, together, anymore. 

    Image: Fuse TV

    Gabrielle Hickmon
    Gabrielle Hickmon

    Find me on: Web | Twitter


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