Dear cigarettes,

I was assigned a letter to cigarettes in this, my quit week in smoking cessation class. I wrote something glib and quick in my book just before class, but I think you deserve better than that, after all our years together. So here goes:

Fuck you, cigarettes. Fuck the day I met you, clinging to my father’s clothes and hugs, fuck you for raising me to wish for your scent; because it meant he was nearby. Go to hell for being my longest relationship; 15 years I let you share my life, every day. I allowed myself to fall in love with you, praise you, worship you, cheat on every man I knew and adored because you couldn’t wait to take me over again and again. I longed for you on airplanes and family trips, I wished for you first thing in the morning, last thing at night.

I thought you were good to me, but you’re an abusive fuck. I thought I needed you to relax and be myself, I thought I needed you to socialize, I thought you had my best interests at heart. You’re a bully and an asshole, cigarette. You make me feel bad and smell bad, and you take hours from my life with every drag…I thought I was taking drags, but you were dragging me to hell, living hell, and I will never forgive or forget you for that. You wanted to control me. You wanted to be my primary, and I let you, for a long long harrowing time.

Now you’re crying crocodile tears, and I don’t buy it for a damn second. I don’t need you. Fuck you, cigarettes, I regret every ingress, every moment you were in my body. I’m bleeding toxic oils and fumes now, now that I’ve gone hours without your violation. I smell like I’ve been running a marathon. I look like I need a good stiff drink. I feel a lonely and overwhelming sorrow because you are gone and I’m not letting you come back. You were never my friend. You never loved me the way I loved you. You just wanted to own something beautiful, and twist it to your own design. You’re a monster, cigarettes.

I’m blocking you on Facebook, I’m blocking you on my phone, I’m wrapping you in a binding spell. I’m coughing up yellow mucous, my stomach is in knots, and I hate you for making me so dependent on your poison. You think you’re so strong; I’m stronger, I love myself more than you want me. You’d love to see me fall again, you’d love every unwilling inhalation, you’d love it if I failed. That’s not healthy, you abusive fucking bastard.

I won’t wish you well, cigarettes, and I won’t mourn your demise. I want to see you crash and burn, and I want to cheer on everyone who drops your wretched self, I want you out of my life and everyone else’s. You don’t deserve friends, cigarettes.

You didn’t deserve me.

-Jady