my last cig

smoked the last lucky of my pack from a dear group in the pnw, i remember the night buying them leading up to my departure. A late August night, we skated burnside, drank, played music, got tattoos and laughed. That was a goodish night to leave note on. Soon after I left, I rationed the cigs as I drove back across the country to the east coast but each cig I would ration a puff on throughout the days made me regret leaving, by mid idaho I wanted to turn around and unpack the car. I knew though, that after the fake goodbyes, it wasnt going to be the same as it was in the beginning. I miss it though. so so much. As days and weeks passed though and I was coming up the end of my pack, I started skating a local diy park, I met a group and it got better. I smoked the last cig a little tipsy while playing a game of gambling blackjack and skating as it should with a new group of people in new jersey. It made me feel good, cold inside, but filled with a new joy again. One cig onto another.