Post by lynnthetwin53 on Jan 31, 2023 23:19:24 GMT -5
June 3 2022
I miss smoking.
It’s a horrible thing to say, really, and I don’t mean it all the time
but sometimes I miss it.
The feeling I would get, voluntarily putting something in my body
that shouldn’t be there. That could kill me.
I never felt affected by it. And that’s the whole reason why people
get addicted, isn’t it. For the nicotine to kick in and work its magic.
I just liked how it looked. Pictured other people thinking how cool
and laid back I was. Reckless. Ignorant even.
Seeing the smoke was my favorite part. Knowing it came out of
my mouth, like I was some powerful creature breathing temporary
clouds into the sky. I even grew to appreciate the smell. Something
I had always hated growing up. I’d critique those people sharing
cigarettes on the sidewalk and wonder if they wanted the lung cancer
that was coming. If they even cared.
I don’t smoke anymore. It reminds me of him and the person I tried
to be to fit in with his life. I don’t want to go back there anymore;
so much has changed since then. I hope she understands.
I still have a pack sitting in the bottom of my drawer. Untouched for
months, aside from the occasional reach for something else close by.
Who knows what will happen to it.
I don’t miss smoking.
I miss smoking.
It’s a horrible thing to say, really, and I don’t mean it all the time
but sometimes I miss it.
The feeling I would get, voluntarily putting something in my body
that shouldn’t be there. That could kill me.
I never felt affected by it. And that’s the whole reason why people
get addicted, isn’t it. For the nicotine to kick in and work its magic.
I just liked how it looked. Pictured other people thinking how cool
and laid back I was. Reckless. Ignorant even.
Seeing the smoke was my favorite part. Knowing it came out of
my mouth, like I was some powerful creature breathing temporary
clouds into the sky. I even grew to appreciate the smell. Something
I had always hated growing up. I’d critique those people sharing
cigarettes on the sidewalk and wonder if they wanted the lung cancer
that was coming. If they even cared.
I don’t smoke anymore. It reminds me of him and the person I tried
to be to fit in with his life. I don’t want to go back there anymore;
so much has changed since then. I hope she understands.
I still have a pack sitting in the bottom of my drawer. Untouched for
months, aside from the occasional reach for something else close by.
Who knows what will happen to it.
I don’t miss smoking.