I pull into the first empty spot I see and quickly kill the engine. I grab the few belongings I'll need, then stuff my wallet into the glove box and climb out of the car, enjoying the thud of the slamming door. I glance up and down the street, and once I'm sure there's no one around, I begin my two block trek.     

As I approach my destination, I pull my hood up and keep my eyes focused on the ground. I'm sure I'm quite the sight, decked out in dark clothing, wearing a pair of sunglasses on in the middle of the night.    

Freak, would probably be an understatement.    

But, I'm a woman on a mission. I've come here to complete one task, and I'm going to do it, come hell or high water.         

My story began like something out of a fairy tale. I had the life I always dreamed of and I was happy. I don't think you could have planned for a happier ending than the one I saw in my very near future.     

Our meeting wasn't conventional by any means. It wasn't love at first sight, but it was pretty damn close.     

I'd started the morning of July 15th 2005, like any other morning. Shower, dress, style the hair, then head to my favorite coffee shop on Main St., in the heart of downtown Memphis.     

As usual, the line was insanely long, but I had time. I planned my morning routine around this line. I knew I'd be here for awhile, and I was perfectly content to wait a lifetime for that perfect cup of french roast to start my day.    

However, I didn't plan on the tall, impossibly good looking man in front of me turning around, and spilling his searing hot coffee down the front of my crisp white blouse.     

He'd officially ruined my day, but little did I know... he'd spend the next three and a half years making it up to me.     

He apologized profusely, but it wasn't stopping the agonizing pain I was now feeling in my abdomen. Needless to say, a trip to the hospital was in order, and I was beyond pissed about the second degree burns on my stomach.    

I never quite understood why he insisted on escorting me to the emergency room that day. Most people would have apologized, and gone on their way. But not Justin.     

From day one, he had this overly caring quality about him. His concern for people was probably was drew me in from the start. He's always put others before himself, and you can't say that about too many people nowadays, especially folks in the entertainment industry.    

Yes... the man who spilled coffee on me that day was THE Justin Timberlake.     

Not only was he a local celebrity, but the man has reached superstar status all over the world. It's almost sick when you see the extent of his fame. People worship the ground he walks on, and for a long time... it didn't phase him.    

However, on September 12th 2006, it all changed. FutureSex/LoveSounds was released, and Justin was launched into the stratosphere. He was damn near untouchable once the album was out, and his ego shot to epic proportions.     

Now, me being a small-town girl, I was all about supporting my man. I was happy he was being taken seriously as an artist, and it was incredible to see him so happy with his career.    

Unfortunately, I didn't fit in with the Hollywood lifestyle he was living. It became entirely too rare to actually find him in Tennessee, and our only contact were the weekly phone calls he sometimes missed all together.     

But, I stood by him. I figured it would all pass, and it was just a matter of time before he was back here with me.    

In the middle of his tour, was when the rumors started.     

At first, I ignored the whispers that surrounded me every time I walked into a room. I refused to look at the magazines lining the check out lanes of the grocery store. Most days, I didn't even turn on my television.     

I just couldn't bring myself to see those images, and I was naive and stupid enough to believe that a world renowned popstar could stay faithful to his country bumpkin girlfriend.    

I was a moron.     

When you get right down to it, my boyfriend is two very different people.    

First, you have my Justin. The man constantly wearing dirty jeans, working in the yard and playing football with his friends. My Justin is the epitome of a southern gentlemen.    

Then, there's Justin Timberlake. The impossibly sexy, over-confident performer. The man who can bring a million women to their knees with just a smile. He rubs elbows with the A-listers of Hollywood, he's constantly surrounded by scantily clad women, and he just doesn't have time for his boring girlfriend.    

Two very, very different men. But, they've both managed to shatter my heart into a million pieces.     

I finally caved and began looking into his press. I wish I could say I was surprised, but I think I knew all along.     

So, here I am, headed to his favorite bar, fully prepared to catch him in the act.   

I step into the smoke filled building and suppress my cough. I never did understand how people could sit in a bar for hours on end, inhaling this garbage. But then again, I'd take sitting on my front porch reading, over partying any day.    

I spot him at the bar, a tall, lanky blonde draped all over him like a cheap suit. There it is, right in front of my eyes, and I still can't hardly believe it. I shake my head sadly and leave the bar as quickly as I entered.     

Seeing him with her has just added fuel to the fire. My adrenaline is pumping and I think I've finally mustered up the courage to do what I came here for.     

I quickly find his escalade parked down the block from the bar, and I can't stop the evil smirk from forming on my face. I don't care if I get caught. Couldn't care less if I go to jail.     

This will all be worth it.     

See... the thing I never quite understood, was why Justin went for me in the first place. To put it simply, I'm a tomboy.     

I don't necessarily enjoy drinking, but when I'm in the mood... I can shoot whiskey with the best of them.     

I've beat Justin and his friends during a football game countless times, and no... they didn't just let me win. I kicked their asses fair and square.     

I was one of the boys with them, and Justin always swore he loved that about me. He said it made him feel normal to see the woman he loved, fitting in so well with his friends.    

Well... if he wanted a woman who could fit in with his friends, why is he screwing around with a Barbie impersonator, who probably couldn't even begin to tell you what a quarterback sack is?    

It doesn't matter.     

I'm done playing nice.    

I run my hand along the smooth surface of the hood of the white escalade and smile wickedly. Justin loves this damn car more than life. He honest to God told me one time, if he had to... he'd pick his car over any woman.     

I stare at the vehicle for several minutes, and contemplate turning back around and going home. I've never been the destructive type, but I have this undying need to really hit Justin where it hurts.     

I empty the contents of my bag onto the sidewalk and reach for the large wooden bat first.

I raise the bat above my shoulder and put every ounce of force in my body, into my swing. A thunderous crack echoes down the empty street, followed by the shattering of hard plastic.     

I breathe a sigh of relief and smile at the damage I just inflicted on this beautiful truck. It's wrong, but damn, did it feel incredible.     

I step over the clear and yellow plastic scattered on the pavement and repeat the motions on the second headlight.     

As crazy as it sounds, it actually felt better the second time around. I knock out the taillights before tossing the bat onto the ground, and grabbing my keys.     

I still have the spare key to the truck on my key ring, and I plan on using it to my full advantage. I unlock the doors and climb inside. I'm overwhelmed by his scent immediately. Usually, I'd be in full on swoon mode, but now... I'm far too bitter and hurt to let something as simple as the smell of him get to me.     

I pull the knife out of my back pocket and quickly flip the blade out. My daddy being the southern man he is, always demanded his daughter carried a knife for protection.    

I'm sure he didn't plan on her using it to destroy the leather seats of her boyfriends car.    

I place the tip of the knife into the headrest and can't ignore the delight that washes over me at the ripping sound of the blade cutting through the leather.     

I carve a capitol K, A, T, E into the headrest, then sit back and smile at my work. Call me sick and twisted, but I'm beyond thrilled to let him know that this masterpiece was created at my hand.     

I scramble out of the truck and lock the doors once again. I pick out the sharpest key on my ring and grin maniacally at the sound of scraping metal. I slowly walk the length of the car, my eyes lighting up at the sight of the thin line scratched into the side panel of the car. I drag my key all around the vehicle and let out a satisfied sigh.    

This feels so much better than I could have hoped for.     

Finally, I produce my knife once again, and prepare for my grand finale.    

I start on the front driver side tire first, and laugh bitterly at the hissing sound of the air leaving the tire. Justin is absolutely going to shit a brick when he sees the mess I've made of his baby.     

I finish off the other three tires and take several steps back to admire my job well done.    

I don't care what anyone says... the bastard had it coming.     

I stuff my belongings back into my bag and take a seat in the darkened parking lot across the street. I sit for almost an hour, before Justin stumbles out of the bar, his conquest of the night holding him up.     

They amble their way down the block, and suddenly... Justin stops dead in his tracks. I giggle at the high pitched scream that echoes down the street, and smile sadistically as he drops to his knees in front of the escalade.     

His hands fist into his hair and his sobs can probably be heard from a mile away. Maybe now, he feels just a portion of what I've been feeling for the last year.    

Karma really is a bitch I suppose.    

I collect my things and make my way back to my own car, the satisfied, relieved smile never leaving my face.

I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl
Cause the next time that he cheats...
Oh, you know it won't be on me
 

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.