My problem with smoking.

It's not that I care so much for your life.
It's not that I care so much for my life.
Health is not so much a reason to me, but more of my own, personal story.

My father is a habitual smoker. He smokes a pack or more a day.
He has been since before he knew any better.
when a pack was less than a dollar.

Growing up, my dad always smoked. In the car, around me, anywhere, he didn't care, he just smoked because that's what he wanted to do, and that what he did. When I was younger, I was told smoking was bad for you, and just not to do it. I didn't want something harmful to happen to my dad, so I naturally wanted him to smoke. I wanted him around. I wanted him to live to see my his grandchildren, to attend my wedding, to college graduation, and I was convinced that he would get cancer, and he would die all before he could be proud of me. I wanted nothing less than for him to be proud of me and to see me accomplish something. Well, my dad isn't dead, he doesn't think he has cancer, well, mostly because he refuses to go see a doctor because they just remind him how dangerous it is for him to be smoking at his age, and I am no longer afraid of him dying. My problem with this nasty habit is a little more, well, superficial now. It's about money. As most of you know, Marlboro's are about 5 bucks a pack, a little less I know. For the past, well, as long as I can remember, my family has struggled with bills and food and everything financial, all up until this past year.

All through out high school....I've paid for my everything. When I would get birthday money, Christmas money, anything, it was spent on clothes I needed, rationed for when I needed to eat lunch during swim season, for sports, for anything. Perhaps that is why I never really did much sports growing up. Although I am very thankful for my father, who was the only source of income for my family, I am also very resentful.

I just don't understand how the "necessity" for cigarettes is greater than feeding your family, making rent on time, giving your children opportunity. So my problem with smokers is that. I don't ever want that. I will never smoke, ever, because I do not want to. Simple as that. I would never by choice date a smoker...and probably will never want to fall in love with one.

I don't think anyone knows how much I struggle with the fact that my dad smokes, that my brother, whom I use to look up to so much, smokes, and how my boyfriend smokes. I'm concerned for their health, yes, but mostly, it just hurts me. I guess I'm more concerned with myself. This may be selfish, and I know this, but I think this is kinda a big thing.

It's actually a really big thing to me.
Too bad I don't have the balls to tell Marcus how much this really bothers me and can't possibly think of telling him this story. I'm a coward.

whole.

I'm happy. I really am.

I don't know how, but I just am.
I'm thankful for everything, and I mean everything.
I never feel like I'm making a mistake.
maybe it's because I don't care enough, or maybe I'm just embracing life.


I feel a little more grown up, ready to take on the world.
I know I'll never be completely ready for it, but I know i'm closer right now.
I feel as though nothing can bring me down.
I'm just awesome.