Hi, Drake! I’ve been mulling over your musical overture to me, the song, “In My Feelings,” since its breakout success last summer. Now that a year has passed, I’d like to offer my considered response.
Kiki, do you love me?
Wow. Even a year later, I’m floored by the question. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and yes, I do love you. As a friend. I assume that’s what you meant, right? We’re not that close, after all. You’re very famous, and I’m over here in Brooklyn, not totally un-famous, I guess, just hanging out, and eating spaghetti every chance I get. It’s really a lot of spaghetti these days. You could say I’m on a kick.
Not that I’m ashamed of eating so much spaghetti. I’m pretty confident about it, and actually, it’s core to who I am. I want you to know how big a deal it is that I’m sharing that so early in our relationship. It means I trust you.
But I do understand the difference between us. I know love can transcend that divide—I’m not cynical, Drake!—but the truth is, you’re Drake and I’m just… Kiki. Where you are and where I am means that we’re unlikely to develop a close relationship, let alone a romantic one. I accept that.
I do get a lot of likes on Instagram for my spaghetti posts. It’s kind of a thing. Nothing like your engagement numbers, of course, but then again, I don’t know. You have a lot of followers. My ratio might be slightly better. But this isn’t important! You’ve asked me a question, and my answer is yes, in my own little way, I do love you.
Are you riding?
Am I writing? Yes, quite a bit this year, actually… Wait, did you say riding? Okay, interesting. I guess we’ll talk about my writing later. I really want you to read it, Drake. Not that, like, I’m so great, but also, maybe I am that great? Anyway, my point is, we should revisit.
But to your question, am I riding? I guess I am riding. Riding the high of a burgeoning spaghetti influencer who is finding her voice. I’m getting upwards of 50 likes for primly-lit photos of noodles in red sauce. I have over a hundred followers now. It’s a lot.
So yes, Drake, I am riding. Thank you for asking, and sorry about the misunderstanding up top. I would like to tell you about my writing another time, though. I really think you’d like it.
Say you’ll never ever leave from beside me/
‘Cause I want ya/
And I need ya/
And I’m down for you always
Listen, Drake. I can’t say I’ll never, ever leave from beside you, even if you do want me, even if you do need me and, damn it, even if you are down for me always. I have things to do! I’m getting dinner with Logan at Scarpetta, my favorite spaghetti joint on Friday. I can’t—and won’t!—bail on a friend who might be looking to get into pasta.
It’s not that I don’t believe you, Drake—I do. Love is consuming, and sometimes, when you know, you know. I think you found something real and beautiful and captivating in me, even though you’re Drake and I’m Kiki. Really, it’s because you’re Drake and I’m Kiki that we’re in this position.
But I’m not ready. I’m not famous enough. I’m close now, I’m damn close, and every month I gain one or two more followers, but I don’t want to rush this. I want it to be right. That means I have to do my future self a favor by resisting what this current Kiki wants so desperately to do. Which is pledge to you that I will be by your side always, and that I am down for you.
I know you don’t care about all that spaghetti hype. You’re cool like that. You would love me no matter how micro or macro my circle of influence was. But Drake, trust me, if we’re meant to be riding together—and writing, and eating spaghetti, and bringing our whole selves to each other’s lives—then I have to go. I can’t stay tonight. I have to go home and work on my brand, trusting with all my heart that when my platform has grown, you will be waiting for me.
I once told you I wasn’t cynical. It’s still true. This is my prayer to you. I love you, Drake. Goodbye.
KB, do you love me?
Who the fuck is KB?!