“You should stop smoking”

I give her a smile as I bring out another one from the pack, take out my lighter, light it up. I place it firmly between my fingers before I let out a puff. And then eventually I speak up.

“I can but then I don’t need to” I reply.

“Yes. You do. It’ll kill you” she says. She might be a bit mad. I guess.

“But isn’t it always like this? The things that kill us, make us feel alive.”

“What?” she looks worried now.

“I’ll give you a list” I take a deep breath.

i. Coffee shops. Alone. loud music in my ears and that favorite book of yours. And then I look around, take a sip before I let the loneliness creep in.

ii. 2 a.m. Sleepless nights. Dreams that haunt me like nightmares. Headaches from not sleeping. Not being able to sleep for the same.

iii. Pain. And then some more. I realize I can feel.

I’m halfway through my cigarette now. I tap on it, flick off the burnt ash.

iv. Cigarettes. The smoke makes it harder to see. And I like to watch it burn.

v. Music. Sometimes singing. Songs that break my heart. It feels as if I’m breaking from the inside. Crying but not being able to cry.

vi. Stories. The ones I write.

I take one last puff and then I throw it away. The night sky has lost all its stars. City lights now seem like a daydream. I light up a cigarette again. She looks hurt now. But hey, that isn’t fair.

I take another puff and I add another one to the list.

vii. YOU.

………………………..
Smokes & Ashes | September 25