Titi Iku: Until Death (Sequel To Irikuri)

12-Until Reframing

A/N: If you read the chapter I recently released, erase it from your mind lmfao. That chapter will be back with a few modifications but I thought more detail was needed about how Nani dealt with the break and the development of her relationship with Lola. Remember this is all a draft so since I'm trying to push out chapters as I write them, sometimes I change my mind and have to take them back. My baddd. Please enjoy and don't forget to vote and comment! 

A month had passed since my fight with Ade. The biggest fight we ever had. We had our little spats over the summer, but nothing that serious. Nothing that left me with this hollow feeling. Having the person you were in love with be your best friend seemed great sometimes, but sometimes it was the worst of both worlds. I used to fight with my ex all the time, but it never felt like this. When he made me mad I wouldn't miss him. I wouldn't see things during the day that would make me think of an inside joke we had, or movie we'd watched. I wouldn't ache to tell him what some dumb bitch had said to me or what stupid paper my professor had assigned. With that said, even on the rare occasions I fought with Asante, it never felt like this either. I'd miss her, yes, way more than I'd ever miss my ex boyfriend, and I'd ache to tell her things as well. But that's where the aspect of not being in love with her came into play. I didn't miss seeing her smile or touching her or holding her at night. However, all of the above applied to Ade. I missed everything about him and everything reminded me of him, but my pride wouldn't let me go back. His pride in tandem with his bullshit self righteousness wouldn't let him reach out. So, we were stuck in this stalemate. I'm sure he reasoned with himself that I wasn't mad, I just needed my space, and he was partially right. I wasn't mad, I was hurt. 

I thought I had finally realized why Ade didn't want me. Maybe he did love me, but I was sure that he saw right through me. He knew how mentally fucked up I was and decided he couldn't do it. Maybe he wanted someone normal. Someone who didn't wake up screaming in cold sweats in the middle of the night. It's not like I was the only traumatized one in our relationship. He woke up in cold sweats too sometimes. I had a feeling that Ximenes had done more to Ade on that island than Ade would ever tell me, but every now and then he'd drop a nugget. He'd mention a detail I was sure I hadn't heard before, but I wouldn't pry because I understood.  Maybe that was the problem. Maybe having two broken people in a relationship with each other was a terrible idea and that's why he didn't want us together. I didn't know if I was making sense. Nothing Ade had ever said indicated him feeling that way. But that's the thing about self hatred and insecurity. It's not about anyone else, it's about your war with yourself. Ade could've said that he changed his mind, wanted to be in a relationship with me, and kissed the ground I walked on. It wouldn't have mattered. I would've still woken up the next day hating myself because it wasn't about  him. It was about me and how I saw myself. I was back to where I was in july all over again. Ade hadn't 'cured' my issues. Not even for a second. No one can make you love yourself. He just was a good distraction. I loved him and he made me happy, so when I put all my energy into that, I didn't have to think too much.  That doesn't mean the self loathing wasn't always there, simmering under the surface. The second he was gone, the fog cleared, and I had time to think again. To think about all the different terrible things I had done and all the reasons he probably didn't want me. So, that was how I spent the two weeks after our fight. 

A lot of the time when you're insecure or you hate yourself, you tell yourself that a change needs to be made. You convince yourself that there is something wrong with you, and once you change it, everything will fall into place. I saw it all the time with bodies. My friend would always say that once they worked out enough to get that flat stomach or ate enough to get thick or did enough squats to get a fat ass, everything would fall into place. They'd get the man they want, the clothes they wanted would look good on them, and most of all they'd be able to finally look in the mirror and smile.

 In a lot of cases my friends would get what they wanted. And I'd watch them go right from hating one thing, to another. Once they got a flat stomach, now what they needed was abs, or better legs, or longer hair, or whatever fucking bullshit they could come up with when they picked themselves apart in the mirror and ignored the fact that they were beautiful. They ignored that they had beautiful functioning bodies that kept them healthy and alive. The thing about self hatred is it's not about what's wrong with you - if there is anything wrong at all. It's about the fact that you hate you. Once you hate yourself, once your perception of yourself is warped, once you convince yourself that you're ugly, no physical change will ever convince you that you're beautiful. 

I never understood their mentality, to be honest. I didn't notice the parallel. My whole life I had known I was beautiful. Even my abusers had told me I was beautiful. I had been approached by modeling scouts countless times. It's only now, when I self reflect, that I realize it was the same thing. Sure, I was fine with myself on the outside, but what I had always been uncertain about was the inside. When I was younger, my first abuser convinced me to hate everything about myself. She told me I was bratty, spoiled, disobedient, rude, and evil- among other things. When I got home and told my parents what she did only for them to berate me for misbehaving, I began to internalize everything she said. Even with a shit ton of therapy, all those years later, her words still lingered in my mind. Then, there was Ximenes and all the times he'd called me a cheater, a slut, a liar, a whore, and most of all a manipulative bitch. That one stung, because it was true. Even when he didn't know it, I was manipulating him. Sometimes when he spoke the words would echo in my mind and her voice would join his. To top it all off, there was the astronomical amount of guilt that grew worse inside me every day he was dead. Every good thing I had ever done did not matter. Every change I made would do nothing, because I had learned to hate myself. To this day, her voice and Ximenes' ring in my head, I've just gotten better at tuning them out.

Anyways, of course I didn't know this then, so I did what all self haters do. I focused on the goal. Once again I threw myself into self improvement. Not a second was about me or my enjoyment though. I studied all night long to make perfect grades. I joined practically every club I was eligible for. If there was a charity event- I was there. I even began working at a local dojo closer to the rough side of Harlem to help black youth. I didn't give myself a second to breathe. I thought if I was always doing something I wouldn't have time to think. Maybe I thought all my good deeds would convince me I was a good person.

They didn't.

But, they numbed the pain, even if just for a little while. That was how I lived. Numb. Until Lola came barging into our room one night.

"Alright Nani, girl I don't know what happened to you but I know when a bitch is sulking so snap out of it. All this moping is creating a toxic environment in my room and I refuse to live like this.  I'm taking you out."

"Girl what?" I barely looked up from my laptop. "Look this is cute and all but I got work to do."

"Nani you literally have all your assignments done two weeks in advance, you can afford one night out." she began shuffling through my closet, seemingly deciding which outfit to give me.

"How do you think I keep them done two weeks in advance? If I just stop working all of a sudden, pretty soon they'll be two weeks late."

"Girl whatever. Your grades will be fine. Get dressed, we're going."

"Okay what if I don't wanna go because I don't like you."

"Does it look like I give a fuck? I like you, and I need someone to go to this party with. So, you're coming. Let's go." she marched over and shut my laptop before tugging me up and pushing me towards the bathroom. I considered just beating her ass for even attempting to touch me, but then I concluded that maybe some fun was in order. At the very least I'd be able to get drunk. My monthly appointment with my therapist was the next day and I really needed a reward in advance for dealing with her bullshit. I sighed and snatched the casual tangerine colored mini dress from Lola's hands. 'At least she has taste' I scoffed to myself.