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Problem LIII | Setting Things Straight
I never thought I would come back to my old habits after everything I had been through to get rid of them. But turns out I did.
It started with the swearing, which had taken months for me to quit. And now, this-This bliss that I missed.
What was I doing? I finally had my dad back into my life. But I was right where my downward spiral had begun. I should stop. However, I couldn't bring myself to.
I let the smoke out, puff after puff. It was damaging my lungs, but damn did it feel good. I held the cigarette in my hand and my match-box beside me. I had thrown away my lighter when I had been trying to quit smoking - it had worked, I was broke and obviously couldn't buy a new one. Grace had helped me, through withdrawals and cravings. I'd be dead long ago if it wasn't for my best friend.
But somewhere I believed that I deserved this break out of being so proper pomper. I had had a long fucking day.
My eyes were closed and I felt the breeze just pass by, with a cigarette hanging from my lips. And then I felt a presence. I was not in the mood to deal with people, no matter who they were.
"I didn't know you smoked," Said a heavy, rusty voice, it was Paul. Paul and I had just recently patched things over when the tape fiasco had happened. He had accepted me and treated me like a sister he never had. But then again, so did Dean and the the rest. But Paul and I had become close.
"I've had a long day."
"Want to talk about it?" He grunts as he sits down beside me on the grass.
"If I wanted to talk about it I wouldn't be smoking cigarettes, Paul."
"Or-" Paul continued, "You wanted to talk but you're smoking instead because you couldn't find someone to talk to."
I let out another puff. And then willed myself to stub the cigarette in the ground. I knew this was one addiction I did not want to get back at again. I turned to Paul and crosses my legs as I played with the grass, still contemplating if I should talk.
"Not only has it been a long and eventful as fuck day, I've had a lot to process." I said, looking up at his eyes. He urged me to continue and so I did.
"My father, you've met him," I muttered, feeling utterly worn out.
"Justin?"
I nodded, "He tried to kill himself today morning, I've been in this God awful place since morning."
"Oh Clover-" I cut him off. I needed to get this out. Houston couldn't be my only to go person, especially when he hated me.
