We Were Both Quietly Falling Apart

There are some kinds of tiredness sleep cannot really fix. This is the kind that makes you stare at your Bible notification and swipe it away because in your mind, you'd come back to it later.

You still wake up early, reply emails, laugh when people joke with you and still answer you're fine when people ask how you're doing but deep down, you know something inside you has been running on empty for a while.

That was how life had started feeling lately and the worst part was that nothing was exactly wrong. Work was fine, my relationship was fine and Olamide was still…Olamide.

My man was still sending me random food deliveries because he felt I forgot to eat. Lol. He was still calling me in the middle of the day just to ask if I had rested my eyes from staring at screens too long. He was still reminding me softly to drink water often like I was a stubborn child. He still loves me gently but I noticed him too.

Maybe because I had become so used to him that even the smallest shift in him never escaped me. He sighed more these days and sometimes his smiles came a second late, like he was mentally returning from somewhere exhausting and yet, he still showed up.

I knew Olamide and how deeply he carried things without wanting to burden people and it bothered me seeing him that way.

There was one evening he came to my apartment after work with food he had made himself. We were sitting on the floor eating while I ranted about a difficult client when I suddenly realized he had gone unusually quiet..I stopped talking.

“Mide?”

“Hm?” he looked up immediately.

“You zoned out.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Sorry babe.” and then he squeezed my hand gently in assurance

Another day, he forgot what he was saying halfway through a sentence during a phone call and just laughed softly at himself.

“My brain is exhausted,” he admitted quietly.

I remember my chest tightening hearing it.

“You’ve been resting at all?”

“Try

ing to.” I didn’t push him to say anything but God knows I wanted to. I wanted to ask,

What’s been going on in his head lately and

Why he looked emotionally far away sometimes. I want to know if he was okay

But I know how overwhelming it feels when you are already mentally drowning and someone keeps asking you to explain feelings you havent even fully processed yourself. So instead, I stayed quiet.

I checked on him more and prayed for him quietly when I could.

Spiritually, I hadn’t been myself either. At first, I blamed stress, then work, then exhaustion but after a while, excuses stopped working. I had not prayed properly in weekss.

I would open my Bible app and close it again minutes later. Sometimes worship songs didn't really move me because they reminded me how disconnected I felt. Some nights I’d lay in bed thinking, I should pray before sleeping but then I’d fall asleep halfway through scrolling TikTok.

And every morning, guilt griped me. I felt so bad, lol.

That Wednesday at work, I was helping my coworker Matilda, arrange campaign documents before a presentation when she suddenly dropped the file in her hand and sighed heavily.

“I think I’m spiritually exhausted,” she muttered. I looked at her immediately. She laughed awkwardly after saying it, like she regretted speaking out loud.

“No seriously,” she continued quietly. “I’ve not prayed properly in weeks. I don’t even read my Bible anymore. I try to and I just… close it back.”

My hands paused over the papers because every single thing she was saying sounded painfully familiar.

Matilda leaned against the desk tiredly.

“I even feel guilty during church services now. Like everybody else is connecting with God except me.”

Something inside me cracked a little hearing that because me too felt that way. God, me too.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to respond normally.

“Maybe you’re overwhelmed,” I said softly.

She looked at me carefully.

“I don’t think God disappears because you’re tired.”

The words left my mouth gently, but they hit me harder than they hit her cause it felt was talking to myself too.

She frowned slightly. “You really think so?”

I nodded slowly.

“I think sometimes life becomes so loud that you don’t realize when you start disconnecting from yourself.”

She stared at me for a few seconds before smiling faintly.

“That’s actually comforting.”

I smiled back too, but immediately she walked away, my chest started hurting because I realized I had become very good at giving people advice I myself was unable to follow.

The rest of the day felt emotionally strange.

I couldn’t focus properly.

Even during lunch break, while my colleagues laughed over some office gossip about two coworkers secretly dating each other, I found myself zoning out.

At some point, I opened my phone and scrolled through old messages between me and Olamide.

Just random messages oh him reminding me to eat, sending voice notes, and calling me his baby unprovoked. My chest tightened suddenly because I missed him.

Like we were both quietly drowning beside each other while still trying to smile through it.

By the time I got to his apartment that evening, Lagos traffic had already drained the little energy left in me.

He opened the door almost immediately after I knocked.

“Babe,” he smiled softly and there it was again. That warm smile but you can tell he was tired.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead gently before letting me in.

“You look exhausted,” he murmured.

I laughed weakly as I slipped off my shoes.

“You don’t look any better.”

He smiled again, softer this time.

“Fair.”

The apartment smelled like food already. His entire space felt calm in a way that immediately relaxed my chest. I followed him into the kitchen.

He stood by the cooker stirring the sauce slowly.

“You cooked?” I asked.

“Hm,” he nodded softly. “I figured you probably hadn’t eaten properly today.” Even while being exhausted, he still thought about me first. I love this man.

I walked closer and leaned against the counter beside him quietly.

For some seconds, neither of us spoke.

Just the sound of the spoon against the pot then I noticed him pause briefly.

His hand rested against the counter while he exhaled slowly like his mind was carrying too much at once.

My chest tightened immediately. He noticed me staring and looked over.

“What?” he asked softly. I shook my head quickly. “Nothing.” but it wasn’t nothing. I was worried about him. I was terribly worried and somehow, I had a feeling he was worried about me too.

He scooped a little sauce into a spoon and held it toward me.

“Taste this for me.”

I opened my mouth obediently and tasted it.

“Hm,” I nodded dramatically. “You’ll make an excellent wife.” I joked. He sincerely laughed. I was glad he did and for a few seconds, things felt light and normal.

Then silence returned again naturally. The kind that exists between two people who know each other deeply.

It was time to eat and I mostly pushed food around my plate while my thoughts kept spiraling quietly inside me. Olamide noticed eventually. Of course he did. He always noticed.

“You’ve been somewhere else since you got here,” he said gently.

I looked up slowly.

His voice wasn’t accusatory. He was just soft and concerned.

I looked down at my plate again.

Then before I could stop myself, the words slipped out quietly.

“Do you ever feel guilty for being distant from God?”

The question came out so quietly that for a moment, even I wasn’t sure I had actually said it out loud.

Olamide’s hand paused midway to his glass. The apartment suddenly felt even quieter. He looked at me carefully.

And the thing about Olamide was that he never rushed my vulnerability. He never tried to immediately fix it. He just stayed present inside it with me.

I laughed nervously and looked away.

“Forget I said that.”

“No,” he said softly almost immediately.

I swallowed.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, still watching me with that calmness that always made me feel seen.

“Talk to me.”

My chest tightened.

I stared down at my food for a few seconds before speaking again.

“I just…” I sighed shakily. “I don’t know. Lately I feel emotionally disconnected from everything.”

He stayed quiet, listening to me talk.

“I’ve been so exhausted all the time. Work keeps draining me and when I finally get home, I just want to sleep.” I laughed weakly. “I keep telling myself I’ll pray later and then later never comes.”

My throat tightened embarrassingly.

“I feel guilty all the time, Mide.” He still didn’t interrupt.

“I open my Bible and close it back sometimes because I can’t even concentrate.” I shook my head slowly. “And it scares me because I’m not used to feeling this… numb.”.The last word came out almost like a whisper.

For a few seconds, Olamide said nothing..Then he smiled softly and that confused me immediately.

I frowned slightly. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because I’m glad you told me.”

I blinked slowly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “I just… feel at peace hearing you say it out loud.”

“At peace?”

He nodded.

“Because I’ve been feeling that way too.” He looked down briefly before speaking again.

“I’ve been exhausted lately, Simi.”

His voice sounded quieter now and more vulnerable.

“Mentally, emotionally and spiritually even.”

I stared at him silently.

“I still pray,” he continued softly. “But sometimes it feels like I’m just repeating words because I know I’m supposed to.”

Olamide always seemed so grounded and like he got his feelings always in check unlike me. Seeing him admit this felt strangely comforting and heartbreaking at the same time.

He smiled faintly to himself.

“There are days I’m working and my brain is just… tired.” He exhaled slowly. “Like I’m functioning but not fully present.”

I remembered all the little moments immediately. God, I knew it.

“And I think what scared me the most,” he admitted quietly, “was not knowing how to explain it to you properly.” I stared at him for a few seconds before speaking softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes met mine immediately.

“I didn’t want you worrying.” He always doesn't want me worrying.

I laughed shakily and looked down.

“That’s literally why I didn’t tell you too.” That made him smile softly again.

Then he reached across the table slowly and held my hand gently.

“You know something?” he asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“I think sometimes we forget that being overwhelmed doesn’t automatically mean we’ve abandoned God.”

I swallowed hard.

He rubbed his thumb softly against my fingers.

“I think life just gets heavy sometimes and I think we’re harder on ourselves than God is.” he added

That statement settled with me in a way that felt comforting and painful at the same time.

I looked away quickly because tears were already gathering in my eyes.

“This week at work,” I started quietly, “one of my coworkers opened up to me about struggling spiritually too.”

He listened attentively.

“And I was there giving her advice I myself haven’t even been able to follow.”

Olamide smiled softly.

“That’s usually how it happens.”

I laughed weakly through my emotions.

“I felt like a hypocrite.”

“You’re not.”

“I literally told her maybe God understands exhaustion.”

“And He probably does,” he replied gently.

I looked at him quietly.

He squeezed my hand again.

“You know what I think?” he asked.

“What?”

“I think you’ve been carrying too much by yourself lately.” because he was right.

“And I think,” he continued softly, “you’re allowed to pause too and take a break.” I stared at him helplessly. God, this man.

“You always know exactly what to say,” I whispered emotionally.

He smiled faintly.

“No,” he shook his head gently. “I just know you.”

I laughed embarrassedly and wiped my face quickly.

“See me crying over ordinary conversation.”

“Come here,” he murmured softly as he got up.

I stood up immediately as he gently pulled me into his chest for a hug. I buried my face into his neck and exhaled

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling overwhelmed,” he whispered quietly against my hair. Even while he was exhausted himself, he still made space for me too.

“I was scared to say it out loud,” I admitted quietly.

“I know.”

“I thought maybe something was wrong with me.”

He pulled back slightly just enough to look at me properly.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, babe.” His voice was so calm and so certain.

“You’re tired, I am too but I feel better being here with you” he said gently.

“You know what I’m most happy about?” he asked softly. I shook my head slightly.

“That you told me.” I stared at him quietly. He smiled softly again

“I don’t even care that we’re both struggling right now.” He laughed faintly.

“I just like knowing you still see me as your safe place.” I smiled. He truly was my safe place. I was his too.

He pulled me into his chest again.

“We’ll figure it out together, hm?”

I nodded slowly. Somehow, being in his arms while both of us admitted we weren’t okay felt more healing than pretending we were.