A challenge. To quit the addiction of that nicotine rush I crave. Closer to a pair of Manolos and more paperbacks. Not for anyone. I'm doing this for myself. Not trying to be a better person. Smoking never made me a bad person. I am weak, I admit. I crave. When you spill my weakness all over the people I love, the trust fades because they trusted me as a strong person. And I needed them because they believed that I could be strong. Now that you smeared it all over, I have no one. I can only trust myself to be strong. And when I've proved it to myself, you don't have to worry. I won't clean up the mess you made. I don't give a fuck. I'm satisfied just by proving to myself and no one else that I can stand on my own two feet. Don't expect tears. I've bled my eyes out and I'm done with that.