12 Times Carly Rae's New Song Understood You

by Chelsea Mize

Carly Rae Jepsen's latest single off her upcoming third album (yes, that says third album) is here and you are going to hate how much you love it. Jepsen released "I Really Like You" on Sunday, and we have a feeling that you're either going to really, really, really like it or really, really, really hate it (but sing along to it and have it stuck in your head forever) — because that's the Carly Rae Jepsen way. Like its predecessor, "Call Me Maybe," "I Really Like You" features a cheery, retro melody and an addictive chorus that is reminiscent of "that '80s new wave sauce" that made Taylor Swift's 1989 so catchy.

While I am hesitant to make such bold claims, "I Really Like You" just might be the horrifically catchy song we've all been yearning for since "Call Me Maybe"s relentless reign on our radios (and our hearts). It's hard to fathom how anything could live up to the almighty "Call Me Maybe," but, in an interview for Billboard, Jepsen's manager, Scooter Braun, claimed he told Jepsen "she couldn't come out with anything unless it was on the level of 'Call Me Maybe. "And, now we have a new one that is on that level." A bold statement by Braun, but, after a few listens to "I Really Like You," I just might have to agree with him.

As you listen to the song on repeat for days on end, you'll probably start to notice that the lyrics are relatable to many of your life situations. Eventually, there will come a time where you won't be able to have an experience without hearing a lyric from "I Really Like You" in your head. Once this hits, you'll begin to approach the brink of utter Jepsen madness, as "I Really Like You" transforms from lyrical poetry into reality, with even the most mundane situations evoking a Jepsen lyric in your brain.

"I really wanna stop/But I just gotta taste for it"

Let me paint a picture for you. You're in the cab home after a drunken night out with your friends. The drunk munchies set in, and you cave to the temptation, turning to your trusty Domino's app and ordering a pie — perfectly timed so that the pizza gods place your cheesy treat on your doorstep just as you arrive home. Minutes later, the pizza sweats have set in, and you know you should stop or you will seriously regret it in the morning but you just. Can't. Stop. Eating.

"I feel like I could fly with the ball on the moon"

#ThatTimeWhen you celebrated 4/20 a little too hard and flew a little too high.

"I feel like I could die walking up to the room, oh yeah"

We've all been there. You went out on a Tuesday night, "just for a glass or wine or two." Ten tequila shots and four hours of restless sleep later and you're approaching the door to walk into work or class and you just know that this is it. The end has come. You know you are officially going to expire in this moment because the thought of functioning in this hungover state is simply too much to bear.

"Late night watching television/But how we get in this position?/It's way too soon, I know this isn't love"

It's Friday night and you've just started a new show on Netflix, armed with a bottle of wine. You weren't expecting to be so into this but, suddenly, you look at the clock and six hours have passed. You know it's not logical; you know it's too soon... but you might just be obsessed with this show. Literally obsessed.

"I really really really really really really like you/And I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?"

After hours of swiping, you finally find your future husband on Tinder. You swipe right with bated breath, nervously refreshing Tinder to see if you've matched. Will he, or won't he? Only time will tell.

"Oh, did I say too much? I'm so in my head"

You wake up one morning and you instantly decide. Today is going to be a "you" day. No work. So you concoct the perfect short-term illness, call up your boss, and, in your most pathetic voice (perhaps supported by some fake gagging sounds), you explain how severely ill you are and that there's no possible way you could come into work today. You hang up and then proceed to spend the rest of the day anxiously going over the phone call in your head, wondering if your boss saw right through your lies. You don't even enjoy your day off because you are too busy anxiously questioning the phone call atop your throne of lies.

"Yeah we could stay alone, you and me, and this temptation"

The Bachelor , Mondays, and wine. That's all I need to say.

"I really really really really really really like you/And I want you, do you want me, do you want me, too?"

You find a dress that is to die for. It could not be more perfect. You are completely sold, but you know you need to try it on before you can seal the deal. You nervously slip it on over your head as you whisper Carly Rae's new mantra to yourself: "...do you want me? Do you want me, too?"

"Sipping on your lips, hanging by a thread"

It's Monday morning and you are struggling. You desperately procure a hot cup of Joe and sip it as fast as humanely possible without completely stripping your tongue of taste buds as you wait feebly for your caffeine fix to kick in so you can transform back into a somewhat normal human being again.

"Who gave you eyes like that?/Said you could keep them"

You find yourself chanting this jealously in your head anytime you see Candice Swanepoel in the latest Victoria's Secret Fashion Show or Swim Catalogue. You try to contain the jealous rage within you, but you just can't help it. Those eyes. That hair. That body. Why can't we all look like Candice? WHY?!?

"I don't know how to act/The way I should be leaving"

No one wants to be that girl that is way too drunk at a party when everyone else is keeping it chill. But let's be real, we've all been that girl, a few too many times to admit. And, as much as you know you should leave, you just can't bring yourself to stop dancing on that tabletop. You drunkenly whisper to yourself: "YOLO, baby. YOLO."

"I'm running out of time/Going out of my mind"

You've put off a project 'til the last minute. You think you can get it done but it's a race against the clock. You silently berate yourself as you slowly descend into madness, with Carly Rae Jepsen's words haunting you as you look imminent failure in the face.

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