Gather 'round, children. Today we're going to discuss a nasty li'l creation called the "cigarette" and my long-term relationship with it.
I hope you packed light, cuz you're now entering Flavour Country.
For many many years, I've been some form of smoker - usually just occasional. Then in my early twenties I dated a heavy smoker and hung around a lot of other smoke-fiends. That led to me smoking more.
I am weak-willed, and smoking is a very social thing that non-smokers never understand. I've met some of my favourite people and had some of my best conversations outside over a cigarette.
There's a strange unspoken bond between people who smoke.
Fast-forward to 24 year-old me, in a serious relationship with a non-smoker. So I cut down quite a bit, save for nights out and social occasions. Over the next couple of years I didn't smoke much at all (partially because I couldn't afford to, partially because I'm just such a nice girlfriend... nah, that can't be right).
Then 2010 happened. Stress kicked me in the ass and made the smokes my dearest friend again. When I found myself alone in my apartment most of the time, I could usually be found on my balcony. Shivering my ass off, smoke after smoke, staring at the CN Tower and wondering what the hell I was going to do with my life.
It didn't stop. I was smoking daily again. I was so unbearably sad and completely angry this past year, and it just made me smoke more and more. I can vividly recall many times where I'd be crying my eyes out with my head in my hands, puffing away on a cigarette like it would somehow fix my life.
It didn't, of course. So I did.
Things started falling into place recently, and one day I stopped and realized "Hey... I haven't had a cigarette in a week". As of right now, I have the same pack I bought before Halloween.
That, for a smoker, is huge.
I haven't fixed everything that was wrong, but I'm not in the same place I was. I'm not using cigarettes as a crutch. That may not mean shit to you, but it's fairly monumental to me.
Now lets just hope that the next guy I date isn't a heavy smoker... or this somewhat smokeless chick is screwed.