Cigarettes... Is it worth all the trouble?

It pained my heart as I watched him walk out of the door. All this time we were so close. We had been best friends or even closer. I will never be able to define what kind of friendship we had. Whatever it was, right now it was shattering. Crashing into pieces. Why? Just cos of one cigarette?

What is it with guys and cigarettes anyway? Cigarettes, which guys are willing to die for... Cigarettes, which they would sacrifice anything for... including their friends and all their loved ones. Was is just an addiction? Or is it like a drug that you can never give up once you get into? Was it worth sacrificing your friendship for a cigarette?

Most guys I knew did not smoke. I thought the new generation of modern guys did not smoke at all. But I was wrong. I wish I could go back into the past and erase my words of asking him not to smoke. Even though I was 100 per cent allergic to smoke, and even if the smell of cigarettes could harm me or even kill me, at least I would've had my friend! At least he wouldn't have changed. He had had the opportunity to chose between my friendship and his beloved cigarette, and he chose the second. I felt pained and crushed. This wasn't right! I had to be ok! I had to be fine!

"I'm fine!" I screamed out trying to convince myself. But was I fine? I did not know. Why did a cigarette have to come in between? It was the stupidest reason I could think of for a good friendship to shatter. But my allergy came in between. He doesn't understand the problem I have for smoke. The doctor had once advised my father to stop smoking because it was affecting me! How could I hang around all day long with a person who has smoke filled in his lungs?

I closed my eyes and flashed back to all the happier days. He used to call me at least five or six times a day. But not anymore. Now he hardly ever calls me unless I called him first. He's forgotten me! He wants time alone. I have to let go! I have to leave him alone.

"Ok!" I said to myself. I'm not going to trouble him again. He was a free person. He can do whatever he wanted. I had no right to tell him what to do. After all it was his life! He'd call me if he wanted to. If he doesn't call me, that means he doesn't want me or my freindship. He can move on. He can be happy. If cigarettes are his happiness, then I wont stand in the way. I'd have to let go.

I decided to put all my thought into paper and send it to him. He would be happy and move on with his precious cigarettes. I'd go back into the same old lonely lifestyle I've always been in. And maybe I'd continue to hope and pray that someday he would stop smoking. And when that day comes he'd remember me, and call me... I wiped out my tears and smilled at myself, as I picked up a paper and started scribbling down my thoughts.