I'm writing about a man?

Up until yesterday, I didn’t imagine myself writing a whole ass article about this man. I wanted to make a beautiful little note about him, until I realized whatever I was writing was going to exceed the note word count.

I was hoping the first man I’d dedicate a whole ass article to would be when I finally soft-launched my babe on Substack, but life clearly had other plans for me.

So I’m going to leave this here because not writing this would be belittling one of my little joys of Substack, or perhaps, one of the little joys I’ve gotten from Substack.

P.S: I'd be adding unhinged unrelated screenshots from our chats, just because 😂🫶🏾

I can remember how we started talking. It was under one of my early posts about Yoruba men striking yet again and not beating the allegations. He commented about there being good Yoruba men. We got talking as I tried to convince him that “good” and “Yoruba men” were impossible to link together.

He subscribed to me because he thought I was funny and cool and awesome (he might decide to deny that now, but I’m glad we all know the truth), and I made the bold move of texting him after many little interactions on my notes. That was when he became YMINMCS—the Yoruba Man In My Comment Section.

Our first DM interaction was more like a therapy session. We kept talking about how the whole Yoruba demon men thing might not apply to all men, and immediately, I was certain it applied to him. I remember telling him I was going to read all his articles that Saturday in May and tell him what I thought about him as a person before the day ended. As I read through his articles, my eyes kept widening in shock. (read his works, you'll understand what I mean). There was something different about the person I was discovering through his writing. His writing had this raw, unfiltered quality that everybody tries to make pretty on here, but this Yoruba man simply did not.

Naturally, I became curious about him. I wanted to know what was so interesting about this man that he seemed to have such an interesting life, if you know what I mean. After my perfect therapeutic diagnosis (which he affirmed), I think that was the moment I knew I wanted to keep him around.

After a while, we decided to move from Substack to Instagram. He was trying to stay anonymous, and I was trying to be mysterious too. So, because of him, I created my first burner account of the many Instagram accounts I would eventually have. 😭

He didn’t want me to know his name or even what he looked like, so we started our relationship without knowing much about each other beyond what we had already revealed through our conversations. We got to know each other’s personalities first, before names, faces, or any of the other things that usually come with knowing someone. He had a way of using my curiosity to his advantage so I was hooked.

I remember the day we talked on the phone for the first time. The first time I heard his voice. I genuinely understood how Yoruba men get their prey to stop feeling like prey.

The boy sounded very sexyyy. Deep baritone even-in-the-afternoon-kinda-sexy. He painted a picture of what he looked like but left the actual picture to my imagination. He explained that he was, indeed, the stereotypical Yoruba man: dark-skinned, 6ft+, good-looking(the kind that knows that he's fine), broad shoulders and tiny waisted.He was exactly the kind of man I had imagined after reading his articles.

But I noticed how he would chuckle at intervals as he spoke because he was shy. It was crazy because that was so distinct from the personality that came through in his writing. Don’t judge a man by his Substack sha.

Even after months of knowing him, he still does the chuckling thing. It has never failed to make me smile because I still find it ridiculously cute.

Our communication became consistent until he decided to cut me off because he is an avoidant. At least, he thought I cared that he was. We had to stop talking for weeks because he didn’t want us to misunderstand each other and accidentally start a talking stage out of something that was, in his mind, just friendship. He said he was in a self-improvement phase, and he told me he didn’t want to hurt me, so he decided to take a step back before I got too attached. How did that work out for you now, though? 😂

He would still say the only reason he is still talking to me is because I’m a pest. I’m really grateful for my persistence because I would have missed out on such an amazing person otherwise.

After I set him straight that it was never my intention to date him, things became a lot more relaxed. Over the coming months, we learnt to define our relationship clearly and understand how each other works. I’d like to think we’ve figured out a system that works for us now, and I’ve never been happier to have met a man on Substack, kept texting him, and eventually let him into my life.

No, this is not a substack love story. You don't flirt with your friends and it really shows.

For the longest time, we knew each other almost entirely through words. Eventually, names were exchanged, and then, just last month, he finally decided I had earned the privilege of knowing what his face looked like. I would like to say I handled the face reveal with grace and maturity, but the screenshots below will tell you exactly how that went.

PMFTB is a safe space.

He is somebody I felt comfortable enough to start blabbing to from day one, and for somebody as closed-off as I am, you’ll know he had to be really, really safe. He is so emotionally intelligent. He is the friend I could call at 1 a.m. whenever my anxiety set in and I needed somebody’s voice to help me fall asleep. He, who is not even a yapper, would talk to me until I felt sleepy or eventually drifted off.

With him, it was okay to sit in silence. To not be okay. He would let me cry as he listened, then say the words that somehow felt like a warm hug even with the distance between us. I cannot count how many times I’ve cried while talking to him. He just makes vulnerability feel easy.

Although he is, like, wayyy older than I am, he has never made it a problem in our friendship. Of course, whenever he is trying to be an ass, he’ll remind me that he is my big brother and call me a child, but all in all, he never goes all judgy on me. He allows me to be unhinged and is just as unhinged himself.

Nobody knows how shitty my love life is right now more than him. It is never over sharing with him because although he’ll pretend he isn’t listening, he always keeps track of the gist. He loves my gists. I know.

If you listen in on our conversations, you’ll probably think we’re either in love or absolutely hate each other. He can be really mean too, but it is always in the right proportion. I'm afraid I'm going to barf if I say any more nice things about him. Just enjoy these post cards from our friendships over these months (I know he would not forgive me for over sharing but oh well).

There is so much softness underneath all the nonsense.

Dear PMFTB,

I know. I know. I'm sorry.

You've just been too much of a good friend to me that I don't think I can hide my love for you from the world anymore. I know you're not big on birthdays and that you don't like the spotlight, but I wanted to do something for you. Something that makes the distance between us feel a little smaller. I'm sorry if this embarrasses you. (I genuinely dc.)

I want you to know that I love you so much.

I don't think either of us expected this when a Yoruba man entered my comment section to defend Yoruba men from my allegations. I definitely didn't expect to find a friend who would become such a safe and important part of my life.

You’ve never pushed me from the back, but you’ve pushed enough of my buttons to qualify as a nuisance. I can't wait to actually meet you next year and I hope it works out. We need to have “our vacation”, and I need to finally see the person behind all these articles, calls, gists, insults, and unnecessary arguments.

You've touched my life in ways I genuinely did not expect you to. You've been there for me through some of my darkest moments. You've listened to me when I was sad, stayed with me even when I couldn't explain what was wrong, talked me to sleep when I needed it, and somehow made some really difficult periods feel a little less lonely. I mean, na you naw

I don't know what the future of this friendship looks like, but I like where we are now, and I really hope we keep it.

I hope life gets really, really good for you. I hope you heal from the things you don't talk about enough. I hope you become everything you're working towards becoming, and I hope you never forget the person you are while getting there.

Side note, you're really getting old, egbon. I think I should start respecting you.

You are an amazing person, Cumsei, and I really hope you never think otherwise.

Thank you for finding your way into my life through a random Substack comment section. Thank you for becoming home in a place I never expected to find home. Thank you for being my friend and one of the people who has made this particular chapter of my life so much easier to live through.

I love you very much.

And yes, unfortunately, you will have to live with that information.

Happy birthday, my homeboy. 💗

With all my love,

Your beautiful celebrity home girl,

Amarachi 💜🫧