B.O.F.A

Dear Lover, 

B.O.F.A: “Let me come over and kiss you down below.” 

Eboné: *sends address*

Looking back on my time with B.O.F.A, I must confess that he entered my life at the right time– and not for the reasons you might expect from the simple text exchange above. I had recently left my Na-Na's house, and let me tell you, those were the beginnings of some truly challenging times for me. Throughout that period, I encountered numerous hurdles, and I was constantly in search of sources of happiness, no matter where I could find them.

I met B.O.F.A through a mutual friend at his workplace, and it was pretty obvious that he had a crush on me. Standing at average height with a medium build and a beautiful smile, he had a charm that captivated me. This man was truly handsome. Looking back, one of the things I really loved about him was his voice. It wasn't super deep or anything, but there was something about it that just drew me in. Perhaps it was the hint of a Southern accent that added a touch of familiarity, making me feel incredibly comfortable and at ease in his presence. Each time I visited my friend at her workplace, I couldn't resist the temptation to swing by his desk, engaging in conversations that often extended well beyond the workday.

One day, as we were chatting, he opened up about his unhappiness in his relationship with his fiancé. Now I know it’s niggas that use these type of confessions as part of their game, but I genuinely believed him. As time went by, I'd occasionally find myself thinking about him. Then, one night, he texted me with a pretty bold text, exactly like the message you saw earlier. At first, I tried to turn him down, thinking maybe he was just kidding around. But he was persistent, and eventually, I couldn't resist any longer, and I gave in to temptation. I figured, why not? I deserved to feel good, even if it was just for a brief moment.

I was completely aware that my actions were wrong, and I constantly tried to remind myself of that fact. But there was a magnetic energy between us, an undeniable connection that just pulled me in. It could have been our mutual longing to escape the burdens of reality and seek solace in moments of pleasure, even if they were brief. Despite my reservations, B.O.F.A. showed up at my place and delivered on his promises….. and then some. 

There's a unique vulnerability that comes with being naked in bed with someone, as if it peels away any pretenses, leaving you exposed as your true self. We shared countless nights in that intimate space, where we not only bared our bodies but also our souls, revealing secrets and details we had never shared with anyone else before. I've always had a knack for making people feel comfortable, and I often tapped into that super power during these vulnerable moments.

I couldn't help but wonder why he remained in a relationship that clearly didn't fulfill him. Maybe, selfishly, I wanted him to see the potential I saw between us. During one of our late-night discussions, B.O.F.A opened up about the challenges he faced in his relationship. He shared the burden of financial dependence, where his partner was the primary breadwinner. I listened intently as he revealed the internal struggles he grappled with, torn between the comfort of their financial stability and the emotional void that had slowly crept into their relationship. 

B.O.F.A words struck a chord with me, as I contemplated the sacrifices I made in the name of security. It was evident that B.O.F.A's predicament was not unique, especially in a city as demanding as New York. The fear of financial uncertainty, the mounting bills, and the overwhelming cost of living often lead individuals, including myself, to remain in situations that have exceeded their expiration dates. 

He also entrusted me with a deeply personal secret – the possibility of struggling with a sex addiction. During our conversations, he didn't hold back, providing explicit accounts of his encounters with multiple women, even during a trip with his fiancée. While I've always believed in offering a safe and understanding space for such discussions, I must admit that my pums dried up pretty quickly. I can hear my girl down below saying, "You sholl know how to pick them."

As he spoke, I couldn't help but wonder about the choices he was making. If he was capable of such actions towards his girl, it raised a lingering concern about whether he might do the same to me. It was a stark reminder that how you get them can sometimes be how you lose them, and this realization added a layer of complexity to our connection that was difficult to ignore. Listen, I had deep feelings for B.O.F.A, but I wasn't no dummy.

When we were together, it was as if the world faded into the background, and all that mattered was the electric connection between us. We made each other feel desired and wanted, an intoxicating feeling that overpowered any rational thought. The stolen glances, the whispered words, the tender touches—they all created a sense of longing that kept us coming back for more. But it wasn't just about physical attraction. We made each other feel understood on a deeper level. Our late-night conversations were like therapy sessions, where we shared our dreams, fears, and insecurities without judgment. In those moments, I felt truly seen and heard, and I believe he did too.

However, as intoxicating (and toxic if I’m being honest) as our connection was, it came with a price. The guilt and moral dilemmas we both faced were undeniable. Speaking for myself, I found myself torn between the intensity of our emotions and the nagging awareness that our actions were questionable. As time went on, it grew increasingly difficult for us to carve out moments to be together. Our schedules constantly clashed and eventually, it began to strain our relationship. After a while, I had to step to myself as a woman and ask, "Eboné, what are you doing? Because this doesn't feel right." Deep down, I knew it was wrong, but as it so often goes, I felt compelled to challenge my own judgment.

I began to distance myself from him, and B.O.F.A. started to notice. He would reach out sporadically, asking if we could talk or just checking in to see how I was doing. Although I genuinely cared about his well-being and had a desire to talk to him, I knew it wasn't a wise idea to engage further. Eventually, these sporadic exchanges dwindled, and we gradually stopped talking altogether.

Just the other day, I was leisurely scrolling through my Instagram feed when, lo and behold, I stumbled upon a familiar face – none other than B.O.F.A!  You know Instagram loves to be messy chile. With caution, I browsed through his pictures and this man's beauty still shone through, even after nearly a decade had passed since our time together. As fate would have it, he eventually tied the knot with his fiancée, and now they're blessed with beautiful children. From an outsider's perspective, it was evident that love had found its way back into their relationship, and both he and his now-wife radiated happiness. Their smiles in the photographs seemed genuine, their eyes sparkling with a shared connection that spoke of years of companionship and understanding. It was as though they had weathered storms and emerged stronger on the other side, their love rekindled like a warm, comforting flame. Their family pictures painted a picture of contentment, and the presence of their beautiful children seemed to fill their lives with boundless joy and meaning.

I made the decision to reach out and send him a message, expressing my deep pride in his accomplishments and extending my heartfelt wishes for his continued well-being. To my surprise, he responded within minutes, and I could sense his excitement through his words.

Both of us took immense pride in our respective achievements. I celebrated a significant milestone in my professional journey – being signed to a network. In turn, he regaled me with stories of his flourishing businesses, generating substantial income. Yet, it wasn't merely his success that filled me with pride; it was the journey we had both embarked upon individually, striving for our own versions of freedom.

Despite our imperfections and the intricate nature of our relationship, I recognized the incredible effort we had both invested in forging our paths to success. Our conversations weren't just about our individual accomplishments; they symbolized our shared determination. They underscored our belief that, despite life's twists and turns, we could each carve out our unique realms of fulfillment and achievement. In our distinctive ways, we were both on a quest for the freedom we had long yearned for, even though it wasn't a path we journeyed together.

Our conversation felt like we hadn't missed a beat. We spoke about his children and he mentioned that he had undergone a vasectomy, feeling more liberated. That raised a first red flag. I expressed admiration for the city he resides in, and without hesitation, he promptly proposed that I should pay a visit, extending an invitation for a personalized tour. That was the second red flag. While it was tempting to entertain these propositions out of curiosity or nostalgia, I knew that my self-worth deserved better.

I came to the realization that some things never change with certain people, and it's perfectly acceptable to let them remain as memories of the past. Although he had once been a Breath Of Fresh Air in my life many years ago, I made the decision to leave him there, cherishing the memories from that time while acknowledging that some things are better left behind.

Love,

Eboné