Song Diaries: Best I Ever Had by Drake​ (2008)

In which Drake makes for an unexpected wingman.

Song Diaries looks back on songs and the memories they carry for the writer.

If you ask someone for the first thing that comes to mind when you say the name “Drake”, you’ll evoke a different reaction from every single person. Though, in this day and age, you may be hard-pressed to find someone who actually doesn’t know who he is. If you say the name “Drake” to me, though, one memory, in particular, comes to mind.


My girlfriend, Emily, and I had just celebrated our first and only Valentine’s Day in the first year of our relationship. A very tender moment for us, indeed. It had always been hard for us to see each other given that we were in a long distance situation because of school, but we went to this delicious and fancy Italian restaurant named Perricone’s and it worked out. Neither of us had ever had a Valentine before. The one time I got close to having one, she disappeared and stopped answering my messages. Emily had never had a boyfriend before me, so I guess it was a win-win for both of us.

On the drive home, I was in control of the aux cord. I filled the air with some of my favorite love songs: Friday, I’m In Love by The Cure (“Over Pictures of You? Is he crazy?” No, just cheesy.), Ask by The Smiths, I Melt With You by Modern English, 2000 Light Years Away by Green Day, I sang along to every last one because, I mean, it really was in the air. I didn’t care how I sounded. I felt such a rush of emotions swirling around in my head that I couldn’t think straight. I had to sing it out. It was just so humbling that someone came down from miles away to spend their time with me, even if they loved me like they say they do. Four years later, I still can’t believe it.

We turn the car into the neighborhood that leads to her house. That’s when I decided to throw a curveball at her. I knew this was the last song before we got home, so I wanted to cap off an already memorable night. We then reached a red light and stared at each other for a few short moments before exchanging a smile.

“Oh!”, I exclaimed.

Emily looked at me, bewildered, and asked me, “What? What’s wrong?”

I smirk, chuckle lightly to myself, and tap my phone. Immediately, a bass guitar note slides from low to high as drums are hit and a few piano chords are arpeggiated. This plays on a loop three times as Drake’s voice chimes in to briefly prelude the song before the beat drops. Because the song selection was extra cheesy given the day, I acted as if I was performing it for her in the car. Complete with hand gestures and some smolder.

One.

“You know, a lot of girls be…”

Two.

“Thinking my songs are about them.”

Three.

“This is not to get confused…”

Go time.

“This one’s for you.”

Boom.

Right when the kicks and snares came in and the beat dropped, the light turned green. She had to keep driving, but she couldn’t keep herself from blushing and giggling.

“Really? I haven’t heard this song in years!” She says, still giggling. She sighs. “You’re so silly.”

I kept going, though, rapping along to every line like I wrote them.

Sweatpants, hair tied, chilling with no makeup on/That’s when you the prettiest, I hope that you don’t take it wrong.

And she a patient in my waiting room/Never pay attention to the rumors and what they assume.

Double cup love, you the one I lean on/Feelin’ for a fix, then you should really get your fiend on.

Emily pulls her car up to the driveway as the end of the last hook finishes up and puts the car in park. We stare into each other’s eyes, and I speak in unison with the outro of the track.

See this the type of joint you gotta dedicate to somebody… Just make sure they that special somebody.

“I love you.”, she said.
“I love you, too, Em.”

And we kissed as the instrumental played and faded away.

Sure, I could have picked a better song for a moment like this. I even named a few, but I wouldn’t have picked a different song even if she had paid for our meal that night.

Not a goddamn bit.

If you’d like to share a Song Diary of your own, contact us at dulcetzine@gmail.com

Author: Julian

Julian Balboa, 22, is a writer, undergraduate student, and lover of great music from Miami. My enthusiasm also lies with poetry, vinyl, Disney pins, yo-yos, shoes, tea, and hot sauces. Sometimes you can catch me at your local open mic.

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