Nu.
"Why?," he pauses with his back to me, shoulders slumped, realizing he was myopic and had made a slip. Anticipating that after all of these years, it was the last piece of 'proof' I probably really needed. Still turned away from me, he halfway turns his head towards me quizzically tilting his head slightly to the left, over his left shoulder, "What'd we used to call it?"
"Nummy-Nummy."
"Oh...that's right. ...Nummy-Nummy."
When we were still together we had three cats total. But one was special needs. Because of Princess Bitchface. It was her fault an entire litter of six newly-born kits almost died back in 2014 but their mother conveniently didn't believe me and gave his little sister two kits from that same litter. She abandoned both young cats eventually at her former roommate's. Her roommate ended up adopting the black one exclusively. Princess Bitchface ended up moving back in with her minion of a roommate and the second cat of similar markings to the one we had taken from the liter ended up running away. It was gone for perhaps 24 to 48 hours, one of their neighbors found the cat and had to take and pay for it to be put down. Princess Bitchface was not present for any of it. Her cat...she actually had named it Nuni. Come to think of it! Nunu and nuni were bastardized variants of this nonsensical baby word Nu. I don't think I ever got a really clear definition on what any three of those words meant.
Nuni the cat was found by the said neighbor with its tail cut off and in such a bad overall injured state that required it to be put down. I had cautioned their mother on perhaps not giving P.B. a kitten at all, which is probably why Queen Bitchface gave her two of them. The entire story of the tragic--no pun intended--tale of Nuni the cat's untimely ending disturbs my own mother and she hates when I speak of it. My ex and I found out about what happened to Nuni months after the fact and I found the entire thing severely odd, not to mention by that time in our relationship my relations with P.B. and thereby Q.B. were so strange and strained that I'm surprised to this day that I was not directly accused of committing this horrific action personally by either Bitchface. My memory is weak on the reasoning on why we weren't told about it immediately and it was his father that had told us. His mother had she had her druthers would have no doubt kept it from us indefinitely, think the logic at the time was that they didn't want me judging P.B. For a girl who often professed me a crazy bitch, she certainly seemed to care a lot about what I thought of her.
It's all a bit disturbing for me still because for Nuni to be found by a neighbor in the first place tells me that that cat was close by in proximity to their home and that neither girl probably even bothered to go looking for this cat. As they are both party girls, i.e. druggie boozehounds and Q.B would often get mad at P.B. for neglecting both cats, not feeding them or not having food for the cats period. Hell, P.B abandoned both of her cats when she moved out of her roommate's for the first time, sticking that girl with two cats to take care of. Which again, why exactly did Q.B. give P.B. two cats? To spite me, to reprise me? The neighbor who was not the owner of this cat, took it to go get euthanized and paid for it. P.B. was upset that she wasn't there when Nuni died. I was horrified because who cuts a tail off of a young cat, basically disembowel it and leaves it for dead?! What kind of person does such a thing and why?
At the time those girls weren't locking their doors and I instinctively felt such an action was either a warning against them as I got the fleeting impression that this was a threat from a drug dealer gone unpaid or P.B. had one of her notorious "fits" maybe coked-up and blacked out on fireball whiskey taking anger directed at herself and/or her mother and misplacing it upon Nuni. Perhaps after being hurt inside, Nuni bolted to outside as an escape. Those two very real possibilities are perhaps why neither my ex nor thereby myself were told about this directly by either woman as 1). this would have vindicated my concern that P.B. not be entrusted with two kittens to rear and 2). P.B. displays such vicious and dark aspects to her character at times, she is far more likely to be the one that was the reason Nuni got hurt either directly or indirectly verses say by me, which also explains why I wasn't personally accused of hurting Nuni, as I was falsely accused of much by both women through the years.
For instance, at the time, I was more inclined to fear she had a stalker of some sort as she worked in a dive bar and would walk back and forth all the time from work for her set schedule. So her walking habits would've been predictable. Out of concern, I texted her that it was important to lock their doors and that I was sorry to hear about Nuni. That lead to an epic blowback that time has thankfully blocked out from my memory. The "issue" was me texting her scripture and worriedly telling her to make sure the door was locked when out and when home. That action qualified me again as a crazy meddlesome bitch.
After our engagement fell through, I couldn't live where I eventually ended up living with 3 cats at the time, so my ex took our special needs forever baby back in with him. Part of what's wrong with this cat is that she has some brain damage done and she still thinks she's a kitten. Mentally my former cat is a kitten and "nummy-nummy" is something she constantly did to me, even as she grew into a cat, she will still do it at 5+ years old, she'll pseudo nurse on shirts. She used to suck on my t-shirt all the time. That's what nummy-nummy was, the action of our cat nursing on my t-shirt.
But he used nunu. Their family tribe's word and had forgotten ours. It's a nonsensical phrase his little sister came up with as a toddler ascribed to breast-feeding.
I randomly made the realization that Nu, Nunu, and Nuni didn't actually stand for breastfeeding, at their etymology's pith they stood for sucking. As he referred to our old cat's habit of nummy-numming as nunu, "She will still nunu," so absent-mindedly my clairsentience even honed in on the thrown suck the word that shouldn't be spoken allowed. It would lead to more questions then.
The initial hurt that had set in was that he had forgotten our word and was instead using their word. The secret languages that get invented in households; he misspoke our old speech in favor of a long-gone toddler's. P.B. always had an extremely peculiar and annoying manner of speaking. As it was more like shouting, she spoke in a lisping ghetto baby-talk manner well into her late 20's and I'd be surprised if it has stopped completely. An example would be her version of the word sandals would come out 'scandles' - the word childish becomes 'chirldish' -- it was always extremely offputting her butchery of the English language and inappropriate use of sexuality and emotion. Coming off as fake, bratty, entitled, and mentally unstable and whenever anyone didn't see it that way...it would flabbergast me to no end.
He was droning on about why he'd call it nunuing instead of nummy-nummying, explaining the breastfeeding, that it meant breastfeeding. Realizing what we'd both collectively forgotten about our entire relationship.
His slip had the aura of a secret.
I hadn't yet allowed the connection to fully surface just yet: nu meant suck.
"What's-her-head used to call people NuNu and Nu all the time...is that why?," asking because I never did get an elaboration on the nunu and nuni spin-offs and why so many times Nu and these two other words would get ascribed as terms of endearment for those she'd be more affectionate with. A boyfriend or love interest would be called Nuni, a girlfriend she considered close Nunu, she'd affectionately refer to others as plain Nu. An Instagram post of hers from October 2012, a few months after I started dating her oldest brother 10 years her senior, flits back in my head and I go back to check, to double-check my reality essentially and indeed, it's as I remembered. Her post from a Halloween party where she's being pressed up against a kitchen countertop, being aggressively kissed by a girl, her legs spread to her, pulling and ruffling her hair while the girl between her legs braces both hands behind her head on the kitchen cabinet and what exactly had Princess Bitchface captioned it?--Nuni time.
Nuni time? Suck face time? Sex suck time? Suck sex time? Because that's not breastfeeding, breastfeeding--that's not a sexy sexual time. Nuni time for making out with a girl and Nuni to name her one cat about 2 years after this particular post, an ex-boyfriend was called Nuni.
Going back to my initial inquiry of him, as silence was the response. Something I got a lot of in the last two years or so of our relationship, definitely, the last year. So he abruptly mumbled, "Yeah, I don't know," the dismissal coming in a tone that I knew too well meant drop the subject.
But I knew, about The Nu and The NuNu too.
Nu was what his little sister called breast-feeding.
Nunu is what she did to her blankets, her blankies. A blankie is a comfort object that she uses still to this day and she will be 30 years old April 2020...and that's not normal. I remember the hang-up my blankie talk at 6 years of age from my father and being told the baby talk had to stop then too. Obviously, nobody ever had those conversations with Princess Bitchface, and I'd like to think that I don't know why. Don't think she nunu's at all or so very hardcore on her current blankies anymore but as a toddler and child, she'd nu on them until the edges of the cloth shredded into threads. So in his family's admitted lexicon, if I recall correctly, nu was wanting to breastfeed, nunu was the act of breastfeeding itself, and nuni is what she called her blankies. When she nunu'ed her nuni, she was supposedly sucking on the edges of her blankie.
Their mother used to frame the remnants of tattered cloth and hang them up. When he once recounted this to me he recalled it with amusement, novelty, and love.
But in all the years of our relationship, I don't recall seeing one framed. Maybe perhaps once in passing when we were first dating but she would have had to have taken it down so early on for me to strain to remember it and I hadn't made any parallels yet. Hadn't drawn any 'sick' conclusions to be gaslighted over yet. The circumstantial evidence hadn't been apparent nor steadily accumulative at that point. It was either a part of a blankie with a drawing of a bunny or just a drawing of a bunny that surprisingly P.B. had done, but it was up so briefly and taken down so quickly after we had begun dating.
It took me exactly 7 years to allow myself to make the full realization that nunu means to suck. That his almost 30-year-old little sister is still no doubt talking like a baby and his entire immediate nuclear family still all reference a baby word she made up as a toddler to denote sucking. But see P.B. never called her blankies nuni, she calls them Binky. She calls the current blankie she has Binky to this very day.
So the next obvious questions for my ex would be: what was Nuni Time and when did it happen?
Instead of asking them, I showed myself out. As you see, I already nu.
"Why?," he pauses with his back to me, shoulders slumped, realizing he was myopic and had made a slip. Anticipating that after all of these years, it was the last piece of 'proof' I probably really needed. Still turned away from me, he halfway turns his head towards me quizzically tilting his head slightly to the left, over his left shoulder, "What'd we used to call it?"
"Nummy-Nummy."
"Oh...that's right. ...Nummy-Nummy."
When we were still together we had three cats total. But one was special needs. Because of Princess Bitchface. It was her fault an entire litter of six newly-born kits almost died back in 2014 but their mother conveniently didn't believe me and gave his little sister two kits from that same litter. She abandoned both young cats eventually at her former roommate's. Her roommate ended up adopting the black one exclusively. Princess Bitchface ended up moving back in with her minion of a roommate and the second cat of similar markings to the one we had taken from the liter ended up running away. It was gone for perhaps 24 to 48 hours, one of their neighbors found the cat and had to take and pay for it to be put down. Princess Bitchface was not present for any of it. Her cat...she actually had named it Nuni. Come to think of it! Nunu and nuni were bastardized variants of this nonsensical baby word Nu. I don't think I ever got a really clear definition on what any three of those words meant.
Nuni the cat was found by the said neighbor with its tail cut off and in such a bad overall injured state that required it to be put down. I had cautioned their mother on perhaps not giving P.B. a kitten at all, which is probably why Queen Bitchface gave her two of them. The entire story of the tragic--no pun intended--tale of Nuni the cat's untimely ending disturbs my own mother and she hates when I speak of it. My ex and I found out about what happened to Nuni months after the fact and I found the entire thing severely odd, not to mention by that time in our relationship my relations with P.B. and thereby Q.B. were so strange and strained that I'm surprised to this day that I was not directly accused of committing this horrific action personally by either Bitchface. My memory is weak on the reasoning on why we weren't told about it immediately and it was his father that had told us. His mother had she had her druthers would have no doubt kept it from us indefinitely, think the logic at the time was that they didn't want me judging P.B. For a girl who often professed me a crazy bitch, she certainly seemed to care a lot about what I thought of her.
It's all a bit disturbing for me still because for Nuni to be found by a neighbor in the first place tells me that that cat was close by in proximity to their home and that neither girl probably even bothered to go looking for this cat. As they are both party girls, i.e. druggie boozehounds and Q.B would often get mad at P.B. for neglecting both cats, not feeding them or not having food for the cats period. Hell, P.B abandoned both of her cats when she moved out of her roommate's for the first time, sticking that girl with two cats to take care of. Which again, why exactly did Q.B. give P.B. two cats? To spite me, to reprise me? The neighbor who was not the owner of this cat, took it to go get euthanized and paid for it. P.B. was upset that she wasn't there when Nuni died. I was horrified because who cuts a tail off of a young cat, basically disembowel it and leaves it for dead?! What kind of person does such a thing and why?
At the time those girls weren't locking their doors and I instinctively felt such an action was either a warning against them as I got the fleeting impression that this was a threat from a drug dealer gone unpaid or P.B. had one of her notorious "fits" maybe coked-up and blacked out on fireball whiskey taking anger directed at herself and/or her mother and misplacing it upon Nuni. Perhaps after being hurt inside, Nuni bolted to outside as an escape. Those two very real possibilities are perhaps why neither my ex nor thereby myself were told about this directly by either woman as 1). this would have vindicated my concern that P.B. not be entrusted with two kittens to rear and 2). P.B. displays such vicious and dark aspects to her character at times, she is far more likely to be the one that was the reason Nuni got hurt either directly or indirectly verses say by me, which also explains why I wasn't personally accused of hurting Nuni, as I was falsely accused of much by both women through the years.
For instance, at the time, I was more inclined to fear she had a stalker of some sort as she worked in a dive bar and would walk back and forth all the time from work for her set schedule. So her walking habits would've been predictable. Out of concern, I texted her that it was important to lock their doors and that I was sorry to hear about Nuni. That lead to an epic blowback that time has thankfully blocked out from my memory. The "issue" was me texting her scripture and worriedly telling her to make sure the door was locked when out and when home. That action qualified me again as a crazy meddlesome bitch.
After our engagement fell through, I couldn't live where I eventually ended up living with 3 cats at the time, so my ex took our special needs forever baby back in with him. Part of what's wrong with this cat is that she has some brain damage done and she still thinks she's a kitten. Mentally my former cat is a kitten and "nummy-nummy" is something she constantly did to me, even as she grew into a cat, she will still do it at 5+ years old, she'll pseudo nurse on shirts. She used to suck on my t-shirt all the time. That's what nummy-nummy was, the action of our cat nursing on my t-shirt.
But he used nunu. Their family tribe's word and had forgotten ours. It's a nonsensical phrase his little sister came up with as a toddler ascribed to breast-feeding.
I randomly made the realization that Nu, Nunu, and Nuni didn't actually stand for breastfeeding, at their etymology's pith they stood for sucking. As he referred to our old cat's habit of nummy-numming as nunu, "She will still nunu," so absent-mindedly my clairsentience even honed in on the thrown suck the word that shouldn't be spoken allowed. It would lead to more questions then.
The initial hurt that had set in was that he had forgotten our word and was instead using their word. The secret languages that get invented in households; he misspoke our old speech in favor of a long-gone toddler's. P.B. always had an extremely peculiar and annoying manner of speaking. As it was more like shouting, she spoke in a lisping ghetto baby-talk manner well into her late 20's and I'd be surprised if it has stopped completely. An example would be her version of the word sandals would come out 'scandles' - the word childish becomes 'chirldish' -- it was always extremely offputting her butchery of the English language and inappropriate use of sexuality and emotion. Coming off as fake, bratty, entitled, and mentally unstable and whenever anyone didn't see it that way...it would flabbergast me to no end.
He was droning on about why he'd call it nunuing instead of nummy-nummying, explaining the breastfeeding, that it meant breastfeeding. Realizing what we'd both collectively forgotten about our entire relationship.
His slip had the aura of a secret.
I hadn't yet allowed the connection to fully surface just yet: nu meant suck.
"What's-her-head used to call people NuNu and Nu all the time...is that why?," asking because I never did get an elaboration on the nunu and nuni spin-offs and why so many times Nu and these two other words would get ascribed as terms of endearment for those she'd be more affectionate with. A boyfriend or love interest would be called Nuni, a girlfriend she considered close Nunu, she'd affectionately refer to others as plain Nu. An Instagram post of hers from October 2012, a few months after I started dating her oldest brother 10 years her senior, flits back in my head and I go back to check, to double-check my reality essentially and indeed, it's as I remembered. Her post from a Halloween party where she's being pressed up against a kitchen countertop, being aggressively kissed by a girl, her legs spread to her, pulling and ruffling her hair while the girl between her legs braces both hands behind her head on the kitchen cabinet and what exactly had Princess Bitchface captioned it?--Nuni time.
Nuni time? Suck face time? Sex suck time? Suck sex time? Because that's not breastfeeding, breastfeeding--that's not a sexy sexual time. Nuni time for making out with a girl and Nuni to name her one cat about 2 years after this particular post, an ex-boyfriend was called Nuni.
Going back to my initial inquiry of him, as silence was the response. Something I got a lot of in the last two years or so of our relationship, definitely, the last year. So he abruptly mumbled, "Yeah, I don't know," the dismissal coming in a tone that I knew too well meant drop the subject.
But I knew, about The Nu and The NuNu too.
Nu was what his little sister called breast-feeding.
Nunu is what she did to her blankets, her blankies. A blankie is a comfort object that she uses still to this day and she will be 30 years old April 2020...and that's not normal. I remember the hang-up my blankie talk at 6 years of age from my father and being told the baby talk had to stop then too. Obviously, nobody ever had those conversations with Princess Bitchface, and I'd like to think that I don't know why. Don't think she nunu's at all or so very hardcore on her current blankies anymore but as a toddler and child, she'd nu on them until the edges of the cloth shredded into threads. So in his family's admitted lexicon, if I recall correctly, nu was wanting to breastfeed, nunu was the act of breastfeeding itself, and nuni is what she called her blankies. When she nunu'ed her nuni, she was supposedly sucking on the edges of her blankie.
Their mother used to frame the remnants of tattered cloth and hang them up. When he once recounted this to me he recalled it with amusement, novelty, and love.
But in all the years of our relationship, I don't recall seeing one framed. Maybe perhaps once in passing when we were first dating but she would have had to have taken it down so early on for me to strain to remember it and I hadn't made any parallels yet. Hadn't drawn any 'sick' conclusions to be gaslighted over yet. The circumstantial evidence hadn't been apparent nor steadily accumulative at that point. It was either a part of a blankie with a drawing of a bunny or just a drawing of a bunny that surprisingly P.B. had done, but it was up so briefly and taken down so quickly after we had begun dating.
It took me exactly 7 years to allow myself to make the full realization that nunu means to suck. That his almost 30-year-old little sister is still no doubt talking like a baby and his entire immediate nuclear family still all reference a baby word she made up as a toddler to denote sucking. But see P.B. never called her blankies nuni, she calls them Binky. She calls the current blankie she has Binky to this very day.
So the next obvious questions for my ex would be: what was Nuni Time and when did it happen?
Instead of asking them, I showed myself out. As you see, I already nu.
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