I am still with You
This is how we end.
I like to linger; over a hug, while eating spaghetti, in my lover’s arms, after the show ends, before I leave the comfort of a car. I do not know how to rip myself out of a place; I like to savor every memory, every place, every touch.
That is why I am standing on a balcony at 2:00 am in Ikeja GRA talking to myself in the same spot I stood in 2021. I am also thinking about what has changed about me from 2021-2024. In 2021, I was scared and unsure of myself, and life. I found it difficult to enjoy my skin. This is 2024 and I am older and in many ways, wiser. I do not worry about getting from one end of the room to the other in the shortest amount of time, why a man is talking to me, or how my outfit stretches over my skin. Instead, I worry about mature things like suffocation. I must leave this person, animal, place, or thing. I must be free at all costs.
I am also unlike Sam Smith, not good at goodbyes.
I do it fast. This is ripping the band-aid off. The way I think, the faster it happens, the quicker they, and well, I reach healing.
I do it awkwardly. How do you break off from anything? In that time when they were there your life revolved around them, they were etched into the fabrics of your day, you could not imagine a world before them and now you do, you must. The lacuna is felt but you also think, If I can get through today…
I do it humorously. I laugh in awkward situations, and no matter how hard I try, my face must split in the middle. It's stupidly awkward, and yet I understand. I must laugh about it; it is the only way to bear it.
You’d think it would be easy, that from the moment I knew this day would come, I would be ready. It would be heartwarming, meaningful, sad, and mostly humorous because I do badly in mushy situations. But, we are here and all that is going through my head is nothing. Can you see that we are off to an unserious end?
If you ask me why I wrote to you consistently for a year, the simple answer would be that I am working on my discipline. In that time, I have learned that discipline is what you make of it, showing up is a daily practice and you never finish learning consistency.
I am happy I saw this through to the end, I also in a weird way don’t feel different. In fact, I feel numb. It is great of course that I have documented my journey in 2024 but I somehow expected to feel…more. How do I not feel more?
You have read me through danfo buses, quitting work, a new job, uprooting my life in Lagos, moving through Uyo, Enugu, and back to Lagos. Through conversations, people, fears, love, pain, music. I am grateful for that. I am grateful for you.
The truth is, I have changed. I had certain conversations at certain points with certain people that have enlarged my heart, changed my thinking, and made me confront myself. What does it mean to be a full human being? Who is Faith Nwani and who does Faith Nwani want to be? It’s the strangest thing but I think I have reached a point where I have to consciously decide who, in great detail, I want to be and work toward that. It is funny because I always assumed I knew exactly who I wanted to be and now I’m at a tipping point. Starting now, I have to live intentionally like I never have, to be the woman I always envisioned. 2025 is going to be different. Pray for me.
You're getting the last newsletter this evening because it's our last, and I must make a good impression. What did they say about last impressions mattering? Nothing? We must change that. It was Dwin, the Stoic in Next Time who said When you want to leave, could you not wait at the corner of my eyes? and because I am a romantic, I won’t do that to you. I want you to imagine that we are on a date; You sitting opposite me at Jazzhole or watching Zenith Bank Christmas lights.
We would do a review of our relationship, I am holding your hands, staring earnestly into your eyes, and thanking you for staying with me. I also listen to how this year went, how I could have done better by you, what your hopes and dreams for 2025 are, and what you need from me.
When we are finished, I hug you warmly, plant a rough kiss on your cheek, and say something funny to dispel my gnawing awkwardness. I then pick up the check—I apologize for making you pay when we first met, I was a struggling writer at the time— and lead you gently out of the place. We will stand for a while, talk a little, laugh a lot, two people wanting the night to continue but too tired to keep up, and then it happens, a bus comes along and I watch you enter. No Uber for you dear, have you seen the outrageous prices? 23k from surulere to Ikeja fgs! I watch the bus until it disappears, until all I see is an outline of where you used to be and that is when I take my leave.
I will return in 2025. Not weekly, maybe not even monthly but I will return to you because no matter where I go, I am still with you.
Let’s look at some statistics:
Most viewed substack post: Do you have a List?
Viewer’s Choice: A Conductor’s Love
Faith Nwani’s favorite substack entry: Asgard is not a place.
Substack entry I wrote last minute and didn’t want to: Faith Looks in the Mirror
Substack entry I wrote in pain: I am taking a break.
I would like to know what your favorite entry is.
Reflections:
I have concluded that I am going to romanticize my life. I am tired of being thought of as weird, of hiding my impulsivity, my hyena laugh, my fluctuating appetite, the need to swing, eat, dance, and sing at 2 am, invent recipes, stare out the window, burst into poetry, post photos immediately without overthinking them to rut and maintain my own company. I want a beautiful life. I will have a beautiful life.
Did I achieve my goals for 2024? No.
Did I learn a lot? Yes.
I have learned that I always wait for things to happen to me. I accept things because I do not have a defined list of what I want. This is indifference because I do not stand resolved in a thing and lay claim, I simply manage my energies. But moving forward, I cannot afford to do that anymore. I must state clearly what I want, how I want it, I must expect it and I must not settle for anything that isn't it.
I discovered that I was afraid to succeed because I didn't know what would happen next. Yes, I have grand plans to make impact, to touch the world but that is looking at the results of a compressed time and activity. What happens in between that time? If I blew today, what would I do? Change my wardrobe, own properties, travel, spoil family and friends, help the poor… and then what? Ans: I think you keep doing what you do. I think.
I am relearning my mind. I do not simply see the present. I see the past that came before, and the future that could come after. I see emotions and decisions. I feel everything in a concluded state. It is tiresome, this overthinking, but it has saved me, this overthinking.
I have also learned that against all costs when God gives you a word, it is never up to you to bring it to fruition either by manipulation, emotional blackmail, or plain good intentions. It is his word. He will bring it to pass in his time. This has cost me.
What would it take to exert myself, to go out of my way, completely, unashamedly, painfully with single-minded focus? What would it take to believe? Believe that I can get and become everything? Without the fear of failure, sometimes even despite it?
I guess we will find out in 2025.
I want to feel the weight of my lover’s hands in mine, the reassuring brush of his finger against my skin, I want to sit on his legs, wrapped in his arms, and know that I am safe, that nothing can snatch me from him.
I guess we will find out in 2025.
Above all, I am grateful for this gift of creation God has placed in my hands, I am in awe of it and in awe of the people who for however long they remain, reap this gift. Thank you for reading, for staying, and for any time you let me know you read, felt, and enjoyed my mind.
Daalu.
Have a fantastic rest of the year and may 2025 usher in beauty and kindness like you’ve never known.
Until we meet again.
Goodbye.
This is so beautiful and honest and raw. Have a brilliant 2025!❤️