Barfur 

by Alanah Nicole

We’ll jump right in. I’m coming off of a six month or five year (depends on how you learned to count) stint with how the locals would say, a “Married Man”. I put that in quotations because I’m not sure how much more married to his wife he was, than my big breasts and

empathy these past six months. I ended that abruptly last weekend after what I’m calling a spiritual intervention that starts on another man's tongue (that’s another story). I know how blasphemous I am but intrigued you are, so read on. It all started on the site of one of my festival production assignments in the late of the summer of 2019. Well really it was

fall but I’m a Scorpio whose birthday is in October & I’ve always wanted a summer birthday party, so run with it. Anyway it was sort of cold out, just cold enough to warrant me wearing my favorite bumpy purple knit sweater over the sundresses I refused to let live in my

basement for a spell. I’ve always been oppositional that way. You should remember that about me as the story progresses. I was sitting in the south room/lobby of a fancy hotel ballroom where the arts based festival was headquartered, eating clunkily from a styrofoam plate full of buffet style vegetarian foods. While I became engorged with disregard for what other people thought about my ravenous eating style my peripheral caught a familiar silhouette. That of a man I had been friends with about 5 years ago. That of a man who was now married with 1 child (Thanks Instagram). That of a man whose friendship turned to a little bouncy bouncy if you know what I mean. I mean sex. GOOD sex. Only once. I sat up straight in an effort to turn attention away from what I assumed were crumbs on my chest & dignity in my lap from my scavenge on the buffet. I turned and said hello “Barfur” (that’s what we’ll call Him). Barfur was just over six feet, a fair skinned black man with a red beard, bald head, almond sliver shaped eyes & red freckles atop his slim nose bridge. He replied “Hello Alanah, long time no see”. I arose for a hug and pressing my body into His, It felt entirely too natural. He explained that He was working with an organization adjacent to the festival & that he’d be on site that evening. We said our goodbyes. I finished my food and set off to return to my post and...there in the lobby He stood with His wife and child! I quickened my steps, avoided eye contact & fled the scene, awkwardly. My domain for the festival was the VIP section. Guess whose domain it was as well? Barfur. Nothing happened that night but on another some weeks later my curiosity peaked. I Facebook messaged Him saying it was “Good to run into you”. His replies were

warm & excited for two weeks so we planned to meet for lunch. Upon meeting we didn’t hug because the tension had built and if we did I was sure to burst, He was too. We met almost every day that week, then I got a cold. He came to my house with snacks, rubbed my

shoulders & back. Kissed the nape of my neck & when He was ready to leave He leaned in for a kiss & I denied Him (morals & I had a damn cold y’all come on). Soon our meetups did turn into bouncy, bouncy. But after about two months in His wife and He decided to separate. It

came out of left field. His entire sturdy 6 foot makeup changed in an instant. Guilt increased, Fear increased & our midday rendezvous turned more blasphemous than ever in His eyes. But I stayed for six months, He needed me right? By April 2020 his texts & reach outs had

become so nasty. It felt like He was 3 feet tall. He was spiraling and in desperate need of structure. Structure not even my thighs or big breasts had. I simply stopped answering last weekend. What would you have done?

Alanah Nichole (She/Her) is a big-belly and hearted writer, arts organizer and mother of two. Her candor resists respectability politics whilst embracing her Scorpio agenda to spread kindness and sex-positivity.