Disappointment Stings

Hello,

This is a rather dreary post.

It's about cigarettes.

For many years my Mother, and Father had smoked. They stopped for a while, then when my mom's cat Sadie died, they started again. It took many years for my mother to be able to quit again. She read a book on how to quit Cold-turkey, and listened to hidden messages on CD's. Finally, she though she was ready. On one day in November, she quit. My dad, at the time, wasn't read to quit, just yet. And personally, I doubt the Bitibopper and I would have survived if they both quit at the same time. When someone quits smoking, they suffer from Nicotine withdrawal. It sucks. They become very cross, and easily irritated. And it lasts two weeks. After that it went back to normal.

When my Mom quit, my life was bettered. I was no longer around second-hand smoke, or cigarettes in general unless my Dad happened to drive me somewhere. I rarely inhale that unpleasant stench anymore. And soon after ( about a month ) my Dad quit smoking too. After the two weeks of hiding from him, I was supremely proud. It had always worried me, that habit of theirs. And I always just stood around with my silent disapproval. I knew that whatever I said would only irritate them, and that they had to quit on their own. I always became quite irritable when we had to sit through the seminars about smoking and it's dangers. I knew them quite well, and it was scary to think about any of those horrible things happening to my parents. So, I hated being reminded of the risks they were taking.
But when they both quit smoking, and I didn't have to fear anymore, I was so happy. It had taken so long, but it had finally happened. If you have ever had someone around you who smokes, I believe you can relate to the freeing sensation you get when they finally quit. This all occurred only a few years ago, too.

And my mother is still cigarette free! I am very proud of her, even if I have not expressed this before. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for my Father. We were at the pool with some neighbors who smoked, and he bummed a cigarette from them. 'Cheating' He said. And my mom asked him if it made him feel any better. He replied that no, it didn't, and he promised it was only going to happen this once. At that moment, I didn't believe him. The wonderful feeling I hadn't seemed to notice before was suddenly being eaten away. It was as if my disappointment was gnawing on it, savoring it like some rare delicacy.

A week or two ago, he came back from the store, and joked around before saying that he had bought a pack of cigarettes, and that, as my mother had asked him before, he might need to cheat a little, just to stay sane. She looked at him disapprovingly, but agreed. I avoided looking at him, for the small monster that was savoring my pride seemed to have taken a particularly large bite. It felt as if I had grown something rare and wonderful inside me, and he was killing it ever-so-slowly with pesticides and clippers.

Nothing new has happened since that night. He has walked in once, or twice with the familiar stench of cigarettes n him, and I finally realize what my mother had meant when I asked her why she began smoking in the first place. She had said that the smell was comforting, because her parents had smoked around hr as a child. She had grown up with that smell, so it was comforting. Although she doesn't have the same stand point now. Her body just can't handle it, and she detests the smell. I know know that although the scent is familiar to me, I will never find it down-right pleasant.

There is something I want to do. Here, on my blog, in front of my astonishing 3 readers. I am going to solidify a promise I had made to myself for as long as I can remember. It is burned into my heart, and I will never break it, along with any others that accumulate over the years. But I have never said it out loud, and wish to do so here. So, without further ado, here goes:

I, Savvy Savant, do here by swear to never, for as long as I shall live, EVER smoke a cigarette. I refuse to put my children through worrying about me as I have my parents, and I doubt I could live with myself afterwords even if I dared. I do believe myself to be a strong, smart young woman, and if I am so, then I will be able to stand up to anything that dares to challenge my promise.

I hope that anyone who happens to stumble on my blog will have the courage to do the same, no matter their age. Even if you have, or do smoke, vow to stop, and NEVER touch another as long as you shall live. But make sure you tell some one. You never know who might be worrying about you.

Love, and Many Long Lives,
Sav~