Has your girlfriend become your God? Human beings crave love. We love to be loved. We seek out relationships that fill that need. Songs like this one makes it get trippy, though. What happens when your relationship becomes your religion?
Things that turn relationships into religion, like this Florida Georgia Line song, “H.O.L.Y.” make me laugh and cry at the same time. The truth is that we do it, though. Love. That cute, crazed, Oompa-Loompemotion. The desire to be desired is such strong primordial cave-man hysteria that what starts out as “ooh la la” become an “I cooked your rabbit” in less time than Han Solo finished the Kessel Run. Let’s look at a couple of reasons why it’s such a terrible idea for your Girlfriend to Become your God -or- your boyfriend to go from your sexy beast to sacred blessing…just…Oooh.
You shouldn’t want to have sex with your God
I’m thinking that as a general rule, this one is pretty self explanatory. I don’t know what’s coming down the pike with the new Ghostbusters, but if it’s anything like the old one, I bet at the end of the day, if you get it on like that, you are not going to feel like the Key Master.
Common Misconception: Sex with a god is a 4th of July event. Never mind the STDs (Sexually Transubstantiated Diseases) you can catch! You have to sacrifice stuff to get rid of it. Stuff can melt, like, in the process. It’s just bad. If you need more proof check out this link on “8 Weirdest Sex Things That Went Down In Greek Mythology“. This mythical chick, Leda, got down with Zeus and laid two actual eggs for her trouble. No one knows what happened to the eggs. She didn’t even get an omelet. Bad form, Z!
Do you want a God who can break up with you?
Ever since Heathers Evans dumped me in the fifth grade, I have a “break-up-phobia.” Call me (air-quotes) overly sensitive (/air-quotes, but exaggerated tongue articulation when you say it). No one likes to get dumped. Heather dumped me like dark, rank dish water out a second story window in the Bronx. This is how she did it:
Me: So, are you going to Adam’s birthday party?
Her: Yes, I don’t want you to go?
Me: With you?
Her: To the party. I want to go stag.
Stag??? She wants to go stag? In the Fifth grade? I didn’t even know what that was. I thought maybe she was going to wear an antler hat.
People break up with you. God doesn’t. You never pray the Lord’s prayer and then catch God interrupting the daily bread part with, ‘Ahem…I’m really sorry, but this isn’t working anymore. It’s not you, it’s ME. I thought I loved everybody. And I do…I just…don’t love you. Anymore. And that’s like eternally.
Forever.”
H.O.L.Y. Is a H.E.L.L.A. Ton Of Pressure
Have you ever looked longingly in someone’s eyes and said to them, “You are so…H.O.L.Y.”? Probably not, because you know that they would be outta there faster than Harry Potter can floo up a chute. Holy is a lot of pressure.
It’s kind of like saying to someone, “When I look at you, in my mind I dress you up like the Pope.”
Or, “Every time you call me on the phone, I’m like ‘ooh, preach it!’”
Sexy.
Oh. And, question…Does someone stay H.O.L.Y. after they divorce you and take half your stuff?
I know, I know. I’m a muderer of love.*
The thing is, we start singing a song like “H.O.L.Y.”, we get “High on Loving You,” and then the person we are high on becomes a obsession, our possession. We start to want to shrink them to pocket sized, and pet their stubby little heads and maniacally murmur creepy things like, “My Precious,” and eat tuna straight of the fish. Your heart gets all Achy Breaky, then out pops a Myley Cyrus, she comes in like a Wrecking Ball then goes all Bangerz. Dang! I’m all over the place on this. But, baby you love my way.
The point is: “H.O.L.Y.” would make a great worship song. IF it worshipped God-ward. God has a place in your heart. But it’s not sexy.
Singing this song to a girl is like singing, “When I look at you, my mind dresses you up like the Pope.” Then you’re life becomes another country song, like this one by Chris Stapleton:
I know right where I went wrong
I know just what got her gone
Turned my life into this country song
And I got nobody to blame but me
I got nobody to blame but me“Nobody To Blame,” Chris Stapleton
She ain’t H.O.L.Y. Doesn’t want to be.
Have I left anything out? Ruined your favorite song? Made you think about Myley Cyrus when you weren’t ready? How fast is a parsec? Leave a comment!
*bomb movie reference, “Dan In Real Life”