Magical Madison #3

It's a filthy habit. I know it is. It's disgusting. I used to be one of those girls who looked down on smokers. Who, when asked for a light, said "no, I don't smoke, and neither should you." And now look at me. Standing here, outside the club, while my friends sit inside, laughing, drinking, listening to music.

I started smoking because of him. He smoked. When I first met him, he said it was only socially, only when he drank. So, although I found it disgusting and had to walk away so as not to embarrass myself and cough in front of him when I took too big of a drag, I smoked too.

Then he started smoking during the day, at work. We worked together, so when I saw him walking past my office to go have a cigarette, I grabbed my purse and ran after him. I started smoking during the day, too.

When I kissed him, I could always taste the cigarette he had just smoked. He always had one after we had sex. I started doing the same.

Then, I started smoking without him. When he was home, with his wife. I smoked and thought about him. The cigarettes tasted like him. I missed him.

Now, he was gone. I still had the filthy habit, but he was never coming back. Standing there, outside on the street alone...the cigarette still tasted like him.