BBL

By Sahil Verma

They say love’s like a BBL, you won’t know if it’s real until you feel–

How did this motherfucker know?!

My entire world had just been turned upside down. The girl I was in love with for the last 3 years said that we had to fall out of love because we were headed in opposite directions. She was right. I’d spent the last few years telling people what it was like to be in love, “Oh it’s magic”, “you have to feel it to know”, “It’s hard to explain in words” but with how quickly I was able to take her instructions and actually fall out of love, I was questioning if it was love in the first place.

Of all people, Drake had phrased it better than me. I was wondering if she loved me or just was showing love to her boyfriend because that’s what you do to a boyfriend. But hey, don’t let my mediocre phrasing distract you from how Drake said it better.

Would you love Ed like you love Drake?

Love Fred like you love Drake?

Love Sayed like you love Drake?

Thought you said that you love Drake?

Brother, I was Drake. Heartbroken, headphones on, galaxy lamp on max brightness, talking about “I don’t need no bitch girl” I was Drake. The album brought up much more for me though. I was asking myself questions about love, what was love? (baby don’t hurt me), the back of my neck nervous - itched constantly, and my heart was pounding with a bass thicker than the BNYX beat in my ears. I couldn’t antagonize this girl; I was out of love, but the residue was desire. I didn’t need her around but now more than ever, I wanted her around.

Listening to Drizzy and writing. So much writing. I thought writing about heartbreak could help me get over it, but it was doing so much…nothing. I was Drawing conclusions like I had a parsons degree or something.

Let me keep it a buck.

How can you keep it a buck when you ain’t got no bucks?

I wasn’t over it. Our texts felt like a fencing match, her temper kept getting shorter and I was sensing that. Everything that I was feeling, this man had somehow rapped about. To put it in perspective, that last sentence was straight from another song on the album, and it JUST. MADE. SENSE.

She’s looking for high ground, hate being tied down

She loved you for the first year, but those feelings died down

I was learning to let go. The album went on, and it was more than just drugs, women, and money. It was one heartbroken man speaking to another, just with an absolute HEATER of a backing track. Lyrics aside, this album made me feel colors.

She bout to spread her wings and you just gotta let her fly–

Dark Red, Lavender, and Viridian Green. Every time I heard a lyric that sounded like it related to my life, I would flick my hand like it had just been burnt, my limp fingers slapping against each other making a light snapping sound that combined with my noisy bracelets to sound like a beat of its own.

This don’t feel like home anymore

It’s just walls, doors and floors

Remember when it used to mean more, mean more.

That girl was my home. I’d always longed for a place or person to call home, complaining that nothing ever felt home–like until she came along. Now, she felt like the promise of comfort, with an uncertainty attached to it.

Broken Pinky Promises–

The album went on, and it moved my thoughts away from the relationship. The break-up left me alone again, free to do what I wanted, without having to reason with myself. Drake was making me feel like following my dreams again, throwing caution to the wind, and just doing the things that I wanted. I was gaining so much from this album, track after track, I did not want it to stop.

Wasn’t doing what I wanted to, I do what was allowed.

After years of being held down, calculating my every move, I was free. I felt like I was back in high school, with infinite energy, ready to do anything and everything to move my life forward. I let my hedonistic tendencies carry me in directions I didn’t know even existed.

It wasn’t that this album was some profound eye-opening piece of work. It was just at the right place at the right time. In my ears, after this breakup. I hate that I resonated with it so much. I wanted to just enjoy the music, say the album was good, and move on. It had the effect that literature should have on me. It should have been a book. It should have been more serious. it should have been something worth learning from. But it wasn’t. I got sent on an existential journey, redefining my worldview, by a goddamn Drake album.

Finding myself as the days

Fly by like us on the move

You told me I was a phase

Okay fine, I miss you too

This was music for all the dogs, and I had just been let off the leash. Woof.