Majesty is a girl who has been raised in upper class and silver spoon fed most of her life, a major name in New York, Majesty has become known for her keen since of fashion and major website LBM and ELBM (little black majesty, and extra little black...
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8: Choke on Chanel No. 5
I want her to die, I hate her so much...why would she do this to me to us. We were a unit...a fucked up one I might add but we were still a damn unit. She wasn't supposed to go rogue and call her engagement off, she was my anchor...she is the one that helped me to move on instead of calling his phone like an idiot. It was something about knowing a bitch sleeping in my bed and in my couture silk Versace sheets that just pissed me off. Victoria—my dear Victoria—I hope you choke on my Chanel No. 5 perfume I left behind, what's your excuse you don't even have to tell everyone you can call me I will unblock your number, I promise I will, just give me a reason.
Was he hitting you, do you want to 'John Tucker Must Die' this shit out or did you want to 'The Other Woman' this shit and make him bankrupt and unattractive to the women after us, I know a guy you know. But that's not the point, the point is you let the man that was—is my weakness—back on the prowl, this is too much temptation.
You know I suffer from Stockholm Syndrome right, I looked it up after this all happened, after he went to the same place that he embarrassed me at and confessed to the world during a post-game interview that he was still in love with me, that he wanted everything with me again, and I knew what everything was because he told me it after we made love, and he admitted that he, Clarence Jackson, suffered from Bipolar Disorder.
Usually if you were on the other end of it you would be sucking this shit up with a glass of wine in your hands laughing your ass off and yelling 'I told you so's' to the TV, but I didn't I sat up there with my mouth open like an idiot that I am.
I didn't remember the beatings nor, did I remember the bitches, I remembered the times where we were first together, and everything was beautiful, the promise ring before the engagement ring, I remembered the times where he would give me a kiss before every game and every time he would make a three-pointer he would slap the inner of his forearm where my name is tatted till this day. I remembered the times where he would treat me like the queen I am, and he wouldn't go anywhere without holding my hand.
God why am I stupid, I should be relishing in this and rubbing it in her face that I was the reason why their engagement didn't work out, but I would be stooping down to her level and doing the same thing she did to me. You know what I need, I need for someone to just slap the shit out of me, so hard that I remembered all of the shit he put me through.
What kind of example am I going to be making for my fans who think it's okay to go back to their abusers, for saying it's okay to be made a fool of and I don't build my brand off that. I build my brand off the empowerment of women, to stand up for yourself to be that bitch and I can't be that bitch if I have my enemy back in my bed.
Slamming my laptop shut I threw the glass ball that was filled with pins into the wall nearest to me, screaming at the top of my legs I cleared my desk, yes including my laptop. He couldn't just leave me alone, let me live in my life and I let him live in his.
