Destined To Be.

Chapter 1

Chapter one

‘’Oh James. Yes baby! Right there. Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhhh”.

I quickly put some music on to drown out that horribly, annoying voice. Looking from my window to the window of the house next door, I see that the blinds are drawn and the frigging window open.

Ughhhhhhhhhh!!!!

James, Fucking Manwhore, Dean Hudson was at it again. Another slut, another day, another amature porn movie happening right next door. Right in my face. Okay, not literally but you get what I’m saying. That bloody, arrogant fucker has no shame whatsoever. I’m surprised he keeps the blind closed. On more than a few occasions I've seen him dry humping his bimbos. On those few occasions before I could close my blinds he would stare right at me and continue without breaking eye contact and with a huge ass smirk on his face.

Ughhhhhhhhhhh!!

Why?

 Why do I have to put up with this?

 Why do I happen to live right next door to a Hugh Hefner wannabe.

 Why can’t I move to say the….moon. Yep! I'll happily settle on the moon if I could and that way I don't have to see that fucking twat ever again.

Oh dreams. They’ll never come true. Well Mine won’t. No matter how I wish for something,I'll know that I'll just have to put up with my the shit and get on with it. 

Sighing. I close my book and move my neck around a few times , I close my eyes and lean back in my chair. Soon enough my mind drifts to a time when the annoying fucker next door was one of the most important people in my life. A time where we were inseparable. A time where we are constantly in each other's homes. Happy times. Carefree times. 

I don’t know when the separation gradually happened. One day we were stuck at the hip, the next James kicked me to the curb so to speak. God, was I hurt. The horrible, cold rejection alone made me go almost mad.  I begged him for answers, but none was given. I even had my Mother asking him what was wrong but he would refuse to give her the answer either. Gradually bitterness took over my heart. I started to play him at his own game. If he ignored me I started to do the same and I became so damn good at it.

Now we hardly speak. It's been a good few years where we just be cordial if that. If he wants to greet me he will, if he doesn't he won't . It hurt in the beginning. I felt that he had taken a knife and plunged it into my heart, repeatedly but then it stopped hurting as I became the ice queen bitch that he turned me into.

But I still miss him.

 Damn, I miss him so much.

 I miss his beautiful smile.

I miss his wicked sense of humour.

I miss his laughter.

I miss having his arms around me...even though the last time we ever hugged was when we were ten.

I specifically miss his own unique scent. Creepy I know, but I love it. It reminds me of happy and carefree days of digging up the garden looking for treasure, or rolling down a hill at the park. Or him comforting me when I would have an awful day at school when Farren and her bitches would pick on me when  I started to wear the Hijab.

I remember.

I remember every tear he has wiped away.

 Every hug he has given me.

 Every sweet word he has whispered to me.

When I think of James this way, it gets me extremely emotional and a tsunami of emotions come crashing all once.