Posted by Mr X
on 7/9/2009, 1:41 am
67.161.188.167
It all started when my best friend (may he rest in peace) and I randomly decided to buy a pack of cigs at the local gas station, out of complete impulse.
This was my first year of college—I know, a late bloomer. I tried my first cigarette at 14 but it never really grew on me till college. It was something between me and my male friends. Neither my parents nor none of my girlfriends knew of it yet. Then I traveled overseas to Japan (where virtually all men smoke, it’s like paradise) and came back a 1/2 pack a day smoker—after only 1 month! All of this done in the closet to my parents and girlfriend of the time. I had no real desire to smoke anymore than about ½ a pack in a day so the fact I could do this behind the backs of the nay-sayers was perfect. This lasted for about 1 year. I would smoke in the comforting anonymity that was my University, as well as with my mates whenever we would get together.
Then I quit… so I thought. My girlfriend of that time who was still quite young moved far away with her family, and that was goodbye forever. I began a rigorous running routine and successfully shed 40lbs of excess weight. All of my smoking friends seemed to be moving back to Japan, or other places far off and magical while I was stuck here, becoming completely surrounded by non-smokers. I felt ridiculous hiding my activity from everyone, and the fact I was running 5 days a week made me want to smoke even less. However, I would indulge in the occasional cig at parties by bumming one from the smoking crowd. I was guiltless because I was single—no girlfriend to hide it from.
Then about 2 years later, the desire and allure of opening up a fresh pack of my favorite cigarettes, (mine are Mild Seven 10s, Seven Stars and Camel Filters) and lighting up with my trusty Zippo just took over. I think partly because of some odd form of nostalgia, and partly because my best friend whom I lit up my first real cigarette with died in the Army in Afghanistan, and I miss him dearly. Actually, make that 100% nostalgia.
All would have been well and good except for the fact that my current girlfriend is probably the biggest anti-smoker I know. But I decided not to hide my habit from her. I hinted for a few weeks how I wanted to smoke, and it upset her greatly. She told me a dream she had of me smoking exactly 3 cigarettes. The odd part was the timing. She told me of her dream the DAY after I gave into my urge, and this was a good month or so of me randomly b###hing about how I want a smoke after a good meal.
As expected, it was a huge problem, and the whole dream thing freaked me out so I decided to tell her I would nip it at the bud. I had no desire to nip it at the bud. I LOVE smoking! And smoking less than 5 a day for me at least keeps the nicotine buzz fresh, while making me savor every puff I take. I also just found out where I can buy imported Mild Seven’s!
So we reached a compromise for a few months. I agreed to no more than 3 cigs in a day. I may sound completely pussy-whipped and I may be at least in this instance—but the truth is I love this girl to death. If I didn’t love her I would ditch her ass in a heartbeat and smoke till I decide to quit for health reasons, NOT because someone else doesn’t approve. I knew it tore at her little heart every time I lit up due to her concern for my health, as well as the fact that she is only a product of the anti-smoking hysteria that believes by simply smoking one cigarette you are not only addicted to smoking, but addicted to crack cocaine, and you probably steal from old ladies. So I agreed to quit at New Years of this year.
I stayed true to my New Years promise to my sweetheart, at least until about a month ago. Me and a buddy god HAMMERED and he bought me a pack. I smoked 5 and gave the rest to him, as I intended it to be only a 1 time thing. Everyone here knows it’s NEVER a one-time thing, and next thing you know I’m bumming them from random blokes at work, and sharing a pack with friends while drinking. I even bought a pack for myself the other day at the mini-mart! (I wish it was legal for vendors in the states to sell packs of 10, because I am a very light smoker and I never finish a pack without it becoming stale and nasty).
I am deeply conflicted. Part of me says I’m a grown ass man and I should be able to smoke if I please, and the other part of me feels horrible for breaking a promise to the one I love. My plan is to finish the pack I bought, (or at least until it’s stale) then resume my New Years Resolution.
I really don’t enjoy smoking in the closet, and I wish to live in a country where smoking wasn’t thought of as a step away from raping small children. Or I wish I could live in the 40s or 50s beatnik era where smoking and jazz the way of life. Besides, smoking can’t be as bad as the media propaganda campaign tries to make it out to be. Japan—a nation with over twice the smoking rate for males compared to the USA—has an average life expectancy that is HIGHER than the USA. Diet plays a larger role than smoking.
I don’t think I will EVER dislike smoking because I know my social situation will never allow me to smoke enough to develop a serious disease, and I have always fantasized about smoking, as far back as I can remember. Family friends who smoked in my mind were mystical. It was as if they had this “special” habit that seemed liberating. For 5 or 10 minutes here and there, time stood still and I wanted a part of it. As a child I pretended pens were my cigarettes and walked around with a pen in my mouth throughout early elementary school. Then as this became no longer socially acceptable, I would deliberately sit next to my parent’s friends whom smoked so I could enjoy the delicious aroma as well. Remember—all of this fantasizing without having EVER smoked a cigarette yet.
I yearn for the freedom I felt when in Japan—I could light up with friends in restaurants, bars, and even my friend’s living room! No nanny-government breathing down your neck trying to control your every move. Even thought Japan is a very conformist society—they still respect your personal freedom to smoke or not. However I don’t live there—I’m in a relationship where I promised NOT to smoke so long as we are together, yet I broke that promise and have a pack of Camel Filters staring me in the face. I want everything—love, sex and freedom—all without the negative externalities. Perhaps only the great enlightenment of the Zen Masters can liberate me from my ceaseless desires.
I don’t think the “in the closet” lifestyle is for me, so I am at a breaking point. I will probably just “quit” again, and then discuss it with my better half. There’s quite a bit to discuss which may be surprising. Not simply the act of smoking, but the fact that when I am with her and deliberately denying myself smoking, a weird trigger sets off in my mind that says “when we break up I’m moving to Japan and smoking as much as I damn well please in front of God and everybody.” But I don’t want to let go. If you have ever been in love, you know it is the greatest form of attachment the human being can experience. Love is an internal prison for me on some days, and a euphoric feeling that illuminates my entire being on others. Well for now I must live with the guilt of lying.
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