Addict

When I was thirteen years old, I used to work for my neighbors by walking their dog and helping them with some easy chores around the house. In my mind, they were so old and naive, so I would think I can get away with stuff.
Sometimes, I would take an ice cream bar without asking. Other times, it would be attempting to smoke in their backyard.

The cigarette butts belonged to their other caregiver. She was a big lady and smoked maybe about half a pack a day.
Now, with me being at one of my curious primes and also slightly rebellious. How could I not try to smoke?

Disgusting as it was, I would pick up the used cigarette butts by that lady and try them.

Oh it was so gross and I hated it.
So after three attempts, I gave up.

I am twenty one years old now, and I have not tried a cigarette since then. So, why is it that I crave one?

Every time I wake up sad or I feel stressed, I want to smoke.
Today is one of those days.

I know I would probably hate it.
I know it is bad for me.
It is no longer illegal for me to have one.
But I still do not cave in.

I want to so badly.
I want it like a kid wants an ice cream bar.
It bothers me how much I desire to try it again.
It scares me.

Still...

One of these days I might wake up weaker than ever. Perhaps I will make that mistake soon.
I just want to see the fire burn and take my worries away with it. I kill myself already with the way I live. So, adding one more thing could not be that bad.

Right?