A Cigarette.

This one is for you.

I thought you loved me. I willingly believed everything that came out of your pretty little mouth because I trusted the goodness in you.

Even when I had finally learnt the truth, I chose to give you one last chance. And you stood in my house, looked me in the eye and you chose to lie.

Not to not hurt me. But to not hurt your ego. Your pristine spotless image.

"Get out" I said in the calmest voice. And it was the first time in four years, I didn't feel like crying.

This one's for you.

My friend. My lying snake friend. You took and took and sucked on for dear life until you found someone else you thought would be much more beneficial to you. Traded up.

Hope that works you the miracles you so crave for.

This one is for you.

For trusting me. Investing in me. And getting scared and blowing it all up. I wish you all the best. But then again, you had it and you let it go.

And that's on you.

Your new offer leaves me absolutely indifferent.

This one's for you.

Little fairy. Somehow, despite the chaos and devastation, you're still standing. Among the ruins and rubble, you made it out alive. Standing up.

And this one is for you.

Because when I wasn't even looking, you were there. When did you walk in? I didn't even expect you, I didn't even call out for help and yet, there you are.

Or were you always there?


It's been a very weird month. I promised myself on New Years to be fearless. I hate change, it scares me, I hate goodbyes and I can't stand the fact that sometimes the love between two people just ceases to exist.

Yeah, closing some doors is hard. But along with fearless, I promised myself to also be hopeful. So my last cigarette tonight will be at the open balcony door, looking up at the starry sky, knowing that loss is painful, but through it comes growth and hopefully, something better.