I Love You Like A Love Song

I Love you like a love song, baby. And that means barely, or not at all. I love you only when all the other songs won’t cut it anymore. When the club music has died down and gave way to that dark, silent part of the night that has me reaching for a bottle of gin and my phone, to play a love song and text every girl I’d ever fucked and see if they are as lonely as I am. That’s how I love you. Like a love song. Like the kind of melody I won’t admit to listening to the morning after. And if you come on the radio, I’ll only change the station to something with more pop or, if there is nothing else, I’ll even put up with the world news on national public radio or the Biblical teachings from Christ’s Station, the classical sounds of Mozart, the Disney channel in all its glee, anything but your damn love song.