So Sick Of That ‘Same Old Love’: An Essay Inspired By Selena Gomez
I would be lying if I said that every damn Selena Gomez single with a catchy hook and addictive quality about it didn’t make me feel some type of way. ‘Good 4 U’, ‘The Heart Wants What it Wants’, everything back to the oldies (If Selena can have oldies?) like ‘Slow Down’, and now, ‘Same Old Love.’ With these previously described advantages, the song had a similar ring, poppy tone and a well-timed chorus. All too well-timed in its lyricism, driving home from work down Beverly boulevard listening to ‘Same Old Love’ on repeat slowly had me wanting to rip my own heart out just to have something to throw at your dumbfounded expression when I told you that despite your empty words, you had yet to show me you cared about me. I had finally reached a point where I was so exhausted by love, or that “shit” that Selena is referring to. It tears me up every time and I can’t take your shitty love anymore.
I’ve heard it all before at least a million times/I’m not one to forget
“Well what did he say about me?” I asked Karen, with an eager, naive hope behind my voice. That’s what I really wanted to know, not about some other bitch.
“He just kept saying how you’re so beautiful and all these, kind of, sexy things about you.” I slumped in her, once again, anticlimactic response. Always the same, I’d heard it all before a million times. When they asked about me, all I heard back was the obvious. Beautiful didn’t do shit for me, because I still remember when you told me, over and again. I needed something else, anything else. I’d heard your apologies and I’d heard your regrets and your declarations of love and lust. But still all I could get was the same old “beautiful” to describe your version of me, a version that could never be simplified into that shallow response.
You left in peace/Left me in pieces
I remembered walking down Sunset Boulevard after what was supposed to be a celebration for your birthday at Chateau Marmont. After I’d met the other girl you were currently fucking. After I’d been so angry I’d thrown my purse into a bush, which then had to dig out consequently. After I’d yelled at you, shaking, in front of everyone there, who were oblivious as to who I was to you in the first place. After I’d practically floated above my body and watched her tell me what I already feared was true. After I’d been so stupid to take your nonchalant, open invitation in the first place. Everything started to move in slow motion. And as my friend Andrew put his arm around my shoulders, now heavy with naive disappointment, and kissed my forehead as an act of comfort, I felt my entire body slowly crumble into pieces for the sidewalk to collect, while I pictured you leaving with her, all in one tidy piece.
I’m so sick of that same old love/The kind that breaks your heart
Walking into my close friend’s arms, and hair studio, I already knew I would tell her to cut all my hair off because you had broken my heart for what I thought would be the last time. I told her to do it and I would shed the bits that you had run your fingers through and soiled only nights before, like a second reptilian skin. As I saw the yellowed pieces hit the concrete floor I felt a sense of relief from this therapy, and then a glimmer of a somber thought that you may never get to love my new and better self. However, everytime I said this wouldn’t break my heart again, I always let it and this time was no different. And despite my irrational fear, you called again. And I answered. Because no matter how sick I am of your same old, shitty, love, I’d rather your shitty love any day than anything short of it.
To see Selena’s video for ‘Same Old Love’, go here.