Things happen in your life for a reason, but they’re not always good. You meet people because you’re meant to, but that doesn’t mean they’re meant to stick around. We’ve all had that toxic ex who you want to get rid of, but you just can’t. It hurts too good. For me, that’s a pack of American Spirits.
I spot Cigs. They’re always calling to me, either softly and sweetly from behind the counter at the gas station, or loudly, because they’re open and half used by a boy who’s almost as toxic and cute as they are. I feel Cigs in hand, and it feels right. A spark. A deep inhale. The second I take a breath, there’s an invigorating rush. A shiver as a tingle runs up my spine. Nothing feels like this. It’s all encompassing. It’s the breath in my lungs and the blood in my veins. It swirls in my head for ages; it’s there even when it’s not. Cigs feel so good, I can’t imagine life without them.
Suddenly it’s too hot. I can feel the build up of sweat on my brow and neck, and it’s embarrassing. I’m dizzy. What was once a buzz is now a head rush. I’m thinking: How could Cigs do this to me? And in front of my friends? My vision is spotty. My brain is still swirling, but suddenly I crave stability. Then it hits my stomach the wrong way. I can taste everything I’ve eaten, drank, and smoked for the last several hours. Within the blink of an eye, I’m throwing up over the side of a railing, or in a trash can, whatever’s accessible. I want to blame Cigs for making me feel this way– and part of me does assign my pain to them– but at the end of the day, I know that it was all my own doing. And I’d do it again.
At the beginning of every long night, my friends remind me of how bad Cigs are for me. We lay out long-winded plans to avoid Cigs, but I still end up with smoke in my lungs– and later, my head over a toilet bowl. People tell me that they won’t be there for me this time when Cigs make me feel terrible, but I know that they will because that’s what friends do. Friends pick you up off of the bathroom floor after you’ve made the same mistakes that you always do. They brush your sweaty hair out of your face and tell you that you still look pretty. They swap out the shots that they had been handing to you for cool water. Friends are soft and sweet in these kinds of moments, and harsh the next day when they’re reminding me that Cigs are the thorn in my side.
There’s just something so hot about a bad boy. The same goes for Cigs. Sure, I’m not inviting them into my life by making long term commitments to them, but they’re fun and I’m just having a good time hanging out with them right now! Besides, if I’m not taking the relationship super seriously, then it doesn’t matter if Cigs are like, not good for me, y’know?
Anyway, I’m still thinking about Weed– hoping she’ll hit me up. She’s so cute and sweet.
She’s so much better for me than Cigs are. Do you think Weed is thinking about me?
Categories: march 23 2021, saliva pussy-eyes, water cooler