Stop Smoking

One of the suggestions on Committed Quitters is to write a break-up letter to Cigarettes. Since almost no one writes letters anymore, here is a hypothetical e-mail I would send to Cigarettes if they were web-saavy. Perhaps in the future, I’ll write letters to others, like cigarette companies, and thank them for being assholes, too.

Dear Cigarettes,

I write this letter with a heavy heart. I don’t think I’ve been completely honest with you and myself. For a long time we were really close, but now we’ve grown apart. We’ve been friends for the better part of seven years. We’ve gone through a lot together. You were there when I got to college. You were there for a lot of drunken nights. You were there when I graduated college. You missed the ceremony, but I forgave you for that. You were there on the way to Denver. I don’t think I would have stayed awake on the drive out there if it weren’t for you (and Tenacious D). We didn’t talk for a long time twice, but we quickly made up for lost time once we were reunited.

But now things have changed. I don’t think we’re right for each other. You smell bad, you make my eyes burn, and you’re just about as expensive as a girlfriend without any of the benefits. You’re needy and arrogant. You set a requirement very early on that I spend time with you first thing in the morning and last thing at night. You came around every couple hours throughout every single day, as well. You’re a big time hog and I’m sick of it.

You’re like a bad girlfriend: You don’t fit in with a lot of my friends. They hate you and talk about you behind your back. I know you don’t like them either. You’ve shown this time and time again by making their clothes stink and their lungs black. What a jerk you are. I could never take you home to my family, as they surely wouldn’t approve of your kind. My brother would probably never say anything about it, but I know he’s thinking the same thing as everyone else.

With all that being said, I’m leaving you. My future looks so much brighter without you. I’m going to breathe easier knowing that I don’t ever have to spend time with you again. Your cousin, Second-hand Smoke, might show up from time to time, but I can tolerate him on occasion. It’s you I really hate.

I may, on occasion, look back on our time together fondly. We’ve had some good times and I will always have those memories. But there’s no future for us. You probably noticed that I’ve been very distant for the last ten days or so. This letter should make the reasoning behind that very clear. We’re done.

Sincerely,

Tim