To Smoke or Not To Smoke

Maybe I'll always feel about quitting smoking like I would about giving up a desired lover because the start of our affair was so smooth and seemingly so very satisfying, and so illicit and dangerous. My brother, my cousin and I would hide in the small attic and puff cigarettes bought with our allowances, and periodically look outside a spy-hole in the roof onto the busy street watching out for one of our parents to come home from work. 

We would talk about everything under the sun, drink cheap soda and smoke more than we should've in one sitting. The ancient cigarette butts still litter the attic and I'll always wish I was 17 once again, looking at the world through round holes and clouds of smoke.