“I’m getting into you / Because you got to me in a way words can’t describe.”
WHEN I FIRST heard these lyrics in the early 2000s, I was smitten. I pressed the soft foam of my headphones against my ears to better hear the lyrics of Relient K. My crush, who we’ll call “Jamie,” had chosen this song as track one on the mix CD he burned for me. Near the top of the CD, he sharpied the name of the song: “GETTING INTO YOU” (emphasis Jamie’s).
Surely this was confirmation that Jamie didn’t just like me as a classmate — he was, as Paramore sang it best, into me. But I was naïve; I was mainline; I interpreted Relient K’s lyrics romantically when I should have approached them hermeneutically. Reader, I was so Presbyterian Church (USA) that I had never heard of the PCA. I knew there was an old rugged cross on a hill, but I’d never heard of Hillsong.
“You’re essential to survive / I’m gonna love you with my life.”
Now when I first heard these lyrics, I paused. If my crush was communicating to me through Relient K lyrics, perhaps he was being a bit dramatic. Like whoa, Jamie! I’ve helped you survive calculus, but I can’t keep you literally alive. However, at 16, co-dependency still seemed endearing. I was ESSENTIAL: The limit (on my worth) did not exist. And that whole “loving me with his life” part had me optimistic that Jamie was an acts-of-service kinda guy. Romance without works is dead, amirite?
“I’ve been a liar and I’ll never amount to / The kind of person you deserve to worship you”
Oof. When I got to the bridge of the song, I was a little worried. What had he lied to me about? Did he cheat off me in Calc? And furthermore, I wanted to be romanced, but I didn’t wanna be “worshipped.” I hoped the next track on the mix CD, “Head Over Heels,” by Switchfoot, would bring more clarity.
“Head over here and take me / Head over heels and aching / When I told you I was yours / I was yours”
Wow! Steamy! I’d heard all I needed to hear. Jamie liked me. Honestly, maybe he liked me too much. I immediately burned him a mix CD full of brooding emo songs from the likes of Dashboard Confessional and Death Cab for Cutie.
He, um, wasn’t into it. Jamie didn’t want to be my boyfriend. He was already taken — married to Christ.
Jenna Barnett is the culture editor at Sojourners and the producer of the award-winning podcast Lead Us Not.
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