You were mine for 9 years...well 8 years 10 months and a few days give or take but who's counting. We started out slow, I was young and you were cool and dangerous and elevated my status or at least that's what I told my 14 year old self.
As I got older so did the intensity of our relationship, we spent more and more time together and all the time I hid you from my parents knowing that they would disapprove.
Once I moved out of home you were with me every day. We spent long days and late nights together, every free minute I was with you. I would steal away from work just to be alone with you for a few minutes. As the years went on and I became more dependent on you I started to realise just how unhealthy our relationship had gotten. There was no longer any separation, I couldn't be without you.
Despite this, I couldn't leave you. I would become so disenchanted, even disgusted by you but one good day, one long summer evening spent together on the balcony with a few beers and all was forgotten. You were good to me, you were my security blanket, you gave me confidence, and you still made me feel cool, like I was a part of the elite.
This is why I was so surprised at how easy it was to leave you behind, a week after I ended it I passed you in the street and your very presence and my proximity to you made me wonder how I had ever kept you around at all, why I spent so much time and money on you.
We had a good run but I outgrew you. It wasn't hard for me to turn my back.
I do not mourn you, cigarettes.