Stubbing out the cigarette I held in my frozen fingers, I breathed the remnants of the smoke out and hugged myself tighter for warmth. I sat on the crumbling brick wall outside his house, waiting for him to arrive so I could slap fifty shades of shit out of him - maybe fifty five if I really got into it.
I had been waiting for at least three hours now. I knew he would do everything in his power to avoid seeing me, but everyone has to come home sooner or later. I didn't care how dark it got, I didn't care how cold I felt, I would sit here for as long as it took for him to arrive.
I wasn't even sure why I was here. I mean, getting your heart ripped into shreds and tossed into the gutter sure does hurt, but was that really the reason I wanted to see him? Was I angry? Or did I just want to see him again? Maybe it was that, maybe I was just lonely, maybe I didn't want anyone else to have him.
No, it couldn't be that. I refused to let it be that I was lonely and that I longed for him to be mine again, when that was true. No, it was that he angered me, he'd left me when I needed him most, that was it.
Anger.
I looked down and studied my scuffed boots as the minutes dragged by. They were scratched to shit, but I liked them that way. Everything I owned was destroyed in some way or another. I hated perfect things. Maybe that was why I hated him. I didn't want him in my head again, so I pulled out my lighter from my jacket and flipped it open.
Staring at the tiny flickering flame, I had an idea. I got up from the old wall, and surveyed the tiny front garden. It certainly wasn't a nice garden; it was one you expected to see on a council estate like this, filled with junk and pointless shit nobody wanted.
Pocketing my lighter yet again, I jumped the tiny wall and set about sorting through the piles of junk to see if there was anything of interest. After a few minutes of mindless searching, I found a half empty can of petrol. Smiling slightly, I bundled the rest of the junk back into a fairly large pile, and opened the can of petrol.
The strong odour made my eyes water but I relished the smell of it, the smell of destruction. I poured the entire contents over the pile and tossed the can on top for good measure. I brought out my disposable lighter again and flicked the grinder. I turned my head towards his house. A light was on downstairs; but I couldn't see anyone around. It didn't matter if there was anyone around anyway, I didn't care.
Shrugging, I made the flame higher and lit an old newspaper I'd found. Taking one last look towards the house, I threw the burning paper onto the pile, and watched, smiling, as the junk immediately burst into flames.