08 — I'm going crazy

The week seems to pass slowly. I feel like an eternity has already unfolded before my eyes, but it's only been a few days since this hell began.

My clumsy hands searched for the pack of cigarettes, and I remember of trying it for the first time when I entered high school, when my mother spent more time in the hospital than at home, before I even knew about my father's existence. From then on, I smoked in secret — one of the habits I gave up on for Eric, who said he hated the smell… Even though he didn't know that this tiny, seemingly insignificant weapon was constantly on my lips.

The feeling of putting it back into my mouth after so many years is both exciting and frightening. But I light it and take it in deeply, leaning against the terrace railing.

The nicotine brings relief to my frayed nerves and a sense of nostalgia that inflates my lungs. The smoke that I expel causes a slight burn to my eyes, yet it appears to carry the burden that has been placed upon my chest.

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