I Ended It

I quit smoking. Again. I know, I know, but it is still better to give up once again, than not to.

That’s it, I am done. Done, done, done. I swear it's over. Cross my heart, hope to die. It is not a lie.

Universe, just strike me down dead, if I don't comply. Do it I say! Do it, teach me, okay! It is what I deserve for being so unrelentingly perverse.

Perverse, I say. When all the experts say one thing, conclude that the outcome is abundantly clear, and yet, my dear, I continue to light up every day. It is perverse. Do I think I am so special, so unique that what has been discovered and proven in peer review studies won’t apply to me?

Perverse.

Arrogance.

Stupidity.

All of the above.

And I don’t want to be that, no I don’t. He didn’t listen and he paid the price. Not really nice, now is it, when you stop and think on it.

I don’t want to be that person who claims with a straight face from my death bed that I didn’t know and now must sue the companies for not telling me of the dangers. Surely no one wants to be that person in the era of information.

It’s a bit late then.

So, I stopped. Again.