I keep thinking , ” Yeah, it’s time to quit now.” But, I never do. The longest I go without a smoke is the hours I sleep. Why do I even like it anymore?
I pick ones that are kind of tangy. They remind me of sour patch kids. I breathe in and out. I slow down. I can buy them anytime I want. They are my constant friend. In the morning, mid day, at night. When I am happy, full, sad they are there. I carry them with me everywhere.
I started late with this habit. At least thats what people tell me. When I was 21 or 22. Matt was a smoker and we’d walk through Seattle. He’d have us stop at corner stores when he needed a smoke. Back then you could buy single sticks. He did it alot. One day I decided to try, too. I went from hiding them in a ziploc bag at the bottom of my purse to smoking a pack a day. I am 29 now. I am glad no one thinks I look over 25. Yes, it is vain. But I don’t want to get old. I don’t think I will. I’ll die before I get there.
I never think that its gonna kill me one day. I don’t think that is the way I will go.
I hate the way it makes me smell, though. I bought a vaporizing e cig recently. Its not the same, but at least I smell like my favorite perfume again. My hair smells like flowers, not trash now. My fingers aren’t tobacco stained.
I dunno what I’ll do. How I can leave it behind. It really is like losing a friend. A friend thats got me by the throat.