But she lights one up. Yeah, I’m dangerously close to driving my ass to the local corner spot and buying myself a pack of Marlboro Lights. Do they still make those?
Something about the way, after a long shift, you’d stand around outside while the midnight air cooled the sweat beads on your forehead and your section partner or the bartender or the shift manager and you took slow drags off your cigarettes, pulled that toxicity deep into your lungs. Something about the rush of nicotine, the release of the bullshit you’ve been knee-deep in all night. Something about the way your brain buzzed a little bit and your head floated up to the October moon.
I need that feeling right now. That inhale and exhale. That moment in between where it seemed like there wasn’t anything that couldn’t happen. Shouldn’t happen. No problem too big, no tip-out too small. We just existed in that moment. Together, alone. Tired and relieved, anticipating the night that lay ahead.
I think, or maybe I know, that I don’t actually miss the nicotine. I miss the the connection, the release. Standing in a semi-circle with people I’d just survived the trenches with. That’s what I’m looking for today. Community. Connection. Release. Damn it. That’s what we are all looking for.
I probably won’t go buy a pack of smokes today, y’all. And I probably won’t get the release I need. None of us probably will. But I hope you are least steeped in community and togetherness and anticipating the possibilities that lie ahead, because there is goodness somewhere down the line. I promise.
Stay safe and sane,
M.
Melissa Goodnight 