One

That's the number of Dunhill Frosts I have in my clutch bag. I've been trying to quit since I started, but these past few years my dependency on cigarettes only grew. I often think about the reasons why I smoke, and I've come up with a good number of reasons, most of which I don't remember, but I'm sure all of them are mere excuses.

I once thought that smoking is my escape. I've always felt my actions, my words, my decisions, essentially my life, depends on what I need to do, and never what I want to do. Cigarettes are there to free me from my prison of acting out of necessity. It is the ultimate expression of freedom, that I can do something I want for once.

Or maybe it's because I simply wanted to break the rules. My whole childhood has been about following rules. It would be utterly boring if I continued to do so until now.

But, none of that matters now. I want to finally emerge from the pool of smoke I dived into when I was 13. I'll have to say goodbye to those long, lonely walks to Agno or the University Mall in between classes. I'll have to keep my lighter buried with the letters, photographs, gift wrappers, and other mementos I've collected throughout my life. And like the others, that tiny yellow electric Cricket will remind me that I lived a different life once, one that I held in between my middle and index fingers.