An Afternoon Free

I was in the middle of my fifth cigarette of the day, coughing intermittently, spitting wads of phlegm out after every other drag, when I made The Decision to Quit.

It didn't take much to start. I was driving with two of my girlfriends down a windy country road in August of '07. The day was warm and the sun was shining through the trees. The top was down on A-'s blue convertible Saab and we were singing along with the radio when I saw something in the passenger side door handle - a pack of cigarettes.

The pack wasn't full by any means. In fact, there was only one cigarette left. I flipped open the top and the white and brown column of tobacco was there, resting diagonally in its container. "It's probably my brother's." A- said. I don't remember the events that followed exactly, but I do remember that all three of us agreed to share the cigarette.

I'm not saying that one third of a Camel light was enough to get me addicted. I didn't have a craving later that day, or later that week. What I did have was a wonderful memory of togetherness, a feeling that cigarettes were happy things. They sent a rush of blood pumping through my body, leaving me light-headed, laughing stupidly. A few of my friends were smokers, and from then on when they took cigarette breaks I would go with them. After that it wasn't long before I bought my first pack. It took me three weeks to smoke it all. They were menthols.

Three and a half years later, I have a chronic cough, adult onset asthma, and a susceptibility to upper respiratory infections in the spring, fall, and winter. Friends had always told me to stop, and I did in the beginning, to prove to them (and myself) that I wasn't "that" addicted. I would quit for a week, or two. And when I had made it through the worst of the cravings and come out the other side, I would start right back up.

So that brings us back to today, with me standing on my back patio in the rain, coughing and spitting and smoking. It's not for anyone else this time. This time, I'm quitting for me, and for real.

Day 1: 5 cigarettes