Smokeless

Dear Cigarettes,

I know ours has been an on again/off again relationship. You've been there for me when I thought the world was trying to eat me alive. Through all your new looks and styles, you've always been the thing I needed, the fallback, the prop, the calming assurance.

But I think it's time we were just friends.

I know I should do this with a phone call, but you're an inanimate object that I'm anthropomorphizing with this "Dear John" letter so I can have a witty way to write about quitting this habit. You'll just have to accept, now, that I'm breaking both a forth wall and our relationship.

I just want you to know that it's been really good. You've given me so many reasons to get outside and break up my monotonous days. You've introduced me to new people. And even though I want you bad right now, I can't fall victim to that. You can't be habitual any more. You've become high maintenance and it's only going to get worse. I spent over $1000 last year on you alone, and that's money I'll never see again - it's not like I'm investing. You just don't give back.

The good news is, I still want to be a friend. I'd like it if we hung out every couple weeks, maybe over a few beers or a long night of drinking at a friend's house. Yes I know I'll hurt the next day, but better to hurt a little in the morning than for the rest of your life.

I don't know what will happen to you, honestly. You've got lots of other options, but you're pricing yourself out of a lot of peoples' comfort range. I'm worried for your future, but I just can't be part of it any more. I really hope you understand.

So, I'll see you around. I know we've done this before, but I have to look out for my future now. I have kids and special people in my life that I want to be around for a long time. You aren't helping with that. But I wish you luck with whoever you end up with.

Cheers!
-ben

PS You can keep the tee-shirts.