Cigarette Cravings

I used to smoke. It’s been years now since I quit but sometimes it seems like it was yesterday.Perhaps I never quit at all—maybe I’m just lying to myself, like I always do. Pretending. Just biding my time until the next small scale catastrophe that will tip me over the edge. Just far enough to fall back into the vice. Business as usual. I’m messed up like that.

There’s an error in my code, a miscalculation that prevents me from functioning properly.  I sabotage myself. Again. And again. And again. I cycle through the same motions, like a scratched record, repeating the same segment over and over without moving forward.

I am not functioning properly today, that much is certain. That old familiar feeling is back, that annoying, almost painful itch. The glitch in my hardware. The need—to what? Run? Destroy? I don’t know.

It is a hungry, mysterious thing, this need. This want.

I can almost feel it now,  the soft hardness between my fingers.

The undulating, intoxicating, embrace of the cloud of smoke around mewithin me.

The slow, long, drag filling me up; the fast letting go.

The repeat.

The repeat.

Back then it was different. It was all in good fun, a trivial thing.  A rebellion—my last, against the ties that bind me. Oh, what a beautiful thing! To be so young and carefree, but old enough to flirt with the edge of the abyss.

Only to flirt, however, real danger was never sought.

Like most things in my life, smoking came and went. It was a passing trend, discarded as soon as the novelty wore off, when I realized that I, too, am mortal. That no amount of cigarettes would erase the sour taste from my mouth. They say it’s hard to quit cold turkey, but it wasn’t for me. It was just as easy as giving up sweets for lent, just more permanent.

Still, I’ve given in  to the need a couple of times. On dark nights with the taste of whiskey on my tongue,  I’ve placed the bud between my lips and I’ve inhaled like a drowning man gasping for air.

Most days I’m fine, but on days like today…I miss it.

I miss the comfort, but most of all I miss the constancy.

~Ink me In


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