Our worse habits, are the ones we enjoy the most

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She sat there watching the ambers of her cigarette burn and wondered when she picked up such a disgusting habit.

Not that it matters anyway.

It was a simply a past time, no cause for worries yet.

She picked up the stick and took a long deep drag.

Man, that felt good..
She could feel it kicking in, slowly but surely.
Her grounds were starting to get uneven.

That felt good.. A sick kind of good.

Like the man she picks.

He wasn’t terrible.
Just not too good for her – emotionally; physically they fit like a key to its lock.

He is a good man – intelligent, responsible, purposeful, yet still has his sense of humour and adventure about him.

But emotionally unavailable. Or maybe just not available to her.

She took another drag of her cigerettes, enjoying the warmth that the drag brought to her body.

Ahhh.. If only her relationship with him could be like that – you pick him up when you need that extra kick and comfort; smoke it till it burns out, snub it out when you’ve had enough and flick it away, like the insignificant trash he really should be…

How much easier life would be for her health.
So much kinder on the nerves and mind.

But no, it never pans out the way she envisions it to be.

Instead, her female instincts took over and she fell for him, despite the warning bells, she stupidly fell for him.

Sigh.

She shook her head at that thought.

Her cigarette burnt out and burnt her fingers.

Her most basic instinct should be to drop it and snub it out with her feet but instead she held on; allowing the ambers to sting her finger tips.

“It’s suppose to hurt”, she thought to herself, “but it didn’t.”

Am I that used to the pain, it no longer matters any more?

That thought bothered her a little as she crushed the ambers between her thumb and index finger.

She began wondering when he had become a habit – the worse one to top it off – for her.

How could a habit this bad, bring this much pleasure and joy?

Perhaps it really is true, that our worse habits are the ones we enjoy the most.

She chuckled as she thought about it.

No one cares!

She said out loud to herself as she strolls across the room to grab another cigarette,

No one gives a fucking shit about your inner monsters baby. Not the one you want to notice anyway.

She reached into the fridge for a beer and strolled back to the chair by the window.

I will allow myself to wallow in this self pity for a little longer and pick myself up tomorrow.

She lights up her stick and takes a swag from the bottle while it burns.
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She leans an arm out of the window and watches the people below and takes a long deep drag.

I think I’ll head to the beach tomorrow if the nerves and weather holds out.

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