Dear Nicotine,
We met 6 years ago now, at a bar in college. I thought you were just the cool, fun new trend that everyone was trying. I picked you up without worrying about the consequences, and that’s where I find myself now. Worried about the consequences. I shouldn’t have to be worried about my blood pressure at 25 years old. I should be able to walk on the treadmill without running out of breath. The worst thing is, I can’t even blame you. I’m the one at fault.
So, I’m trying to take responsibility here. I have a hard time letting go of the past, and you’re the one tangible thing I have left of my time at college. But I’ve been out of school for 3 years now; it’s way past our expiration date.
I always told myself I’d quit after graduating. “Adults vaping aren’t cool” I said. But I wish someone would have corrected me: “Vaping is NEVER cool.” It’s not cool to have a physical dependency on something that’s more harmful than it is good. It’s not cool to feel naked walking anywhere without you in my hand. And it’s definitely not cool to hide in the bathroom during work, with smoke coming out of my stall.
So, I’m quitting. Or at least trying to. I’m honestly scared. I know what I’m like without you: irritable, anxious, shaky, headache-y. But I’m doing this for good reason. My health, future, happiness, and the happiness of those around me, depend on it.
I know future me will thank me for it, but present me grieves this loss. You’ve been with me through some of the best, and worst, parts of my life. I don’t know who I’d be without you. But I’m a big girl now, I shouldn’t need a crutch. I should be able to stand on my own two feet by myself. It’ll be hard, but I believe I can do it.
I believe in a better future for myself. Unfortunately, that future doesn’t include you. I’ll miss you, but it’s time to move on.
I’m breaking up with you, Nicotine. Hopefully see you never.
