I remember you saying that quite a few times. It was when you took a step outside of yourself and questioned your decision between that (everything you’ve built) and I. I always questioned those words. Mulling them over and over and over again in my head. But it all makes sense now. You built an ugly empire that you can’t get yourself out of now. And, apparently, I was the only option for you to get away from your shit kingdom you created. After you snapped back into yourself you would instantaneously go back to devouring me, and countless other men.
Piecing everything together was a bitch. The prostitution. The drugs. The trafficking. It took me months of sobriety and reviewing my notes to see enough of the picture to make what puzzle pieces that weren’t there easy to fill in with common sense and some imaginative reckoning. It’s like those eye trick art pieces where you have to put your nose on it, maintain that focus and slowly step back to see the underlying picture. And it’s clear as day now.
Everything you’ve built…. I’d like to hear about it, beb. In fact, I need to hear about it. From your lips. Just me and just you. Because I can still save you from that whorrendous kingdom. The one you cobbled together and thought you would rule. You thought you’d be the queen but you’re quickly finding out that you are nothing more than a serf.
Empires rise and fall. They’re challenged and conquered. They’re manipulated and ever changing. They’re used as bargaining chips in the bigger game that is played. But this ain’t chess, it’s real life, M. I’m here rn if you want out, but, unfortunately, I can’t wait forever. I have my own empire to build.
You can do it, I believe in you. I believe in us.
C$
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