Dear Nicotine,
As I write this letter it is you who has been missing for the last 3 days; not I, you.
Already I am beginning to feel the benefits of you exile. My chest already feels lighter and more efficient, my body is enjoying the oxygen and my mind is much less troubled by thoughts of the havoc your are wreaking freely upon my body - internally and externally. I am moving away from your vice like grip.
I was originally apprehensive of who I would be without you and how I would cope, however, this prospect now excites me. At the moment, I still do not know who I will be, but it can't be any worse than now, can it?
I'm disappointed and angry with myself for letting you abuse my mind and my body for over half of my short life, but I've eventually gotten so mad with myself it has become your detriment. I've chosen that I'd like my short life, so far, to become one long life; MY long life.
You have never done me any favours. You never made me 'look cool' or 'more adult' as a teenager - you only served to make me look weak for being unable to refuse and walk away from you, you took advantage of my vulnerability as I was trying to find my way and figure out who I was as a child. You are a predator. Well, you are not who I am - am I getting through to you yet?
You've stolen my money, you have stolen and compromised my health, you have harmed my precious, innocent children, you have disappointed my family friends and you have repulsed the man that I love. You have taken liberties like I would allow no other.
Frankly, I'm a tad pissed off. Kindly **** off.
Thanks a bunch,
Emma.
(Sorry to any who may be offended by my profanity!!)