parting thoughts.

I'm taking a break from doing all of my favorite things. Now that my parents left town, I have time to sit down, make myself some vegan pizza, do some yoga in the living room, read secondary sources for my thesis, listen to Simon & Garfunkel, and maybe catch some Weeds later.

Ever since Saturday night, I have been incredibly pensive. I am finding it really easy to get lost in a second and have that second turn into 30 minutes (which is why work felt like it only lasted about 3 hours today). I sat on my back porch earlier this evening after running 2 miles, and I lit up a cigarette. I thought of how ironic that was. Especially since I rarely smoke. I let the tip burn for a second, just watched as the wind turned it red, then died down, and a few pieces turned to ash. Then I just sat and thought about all of the associations I make with cigarettes: the parties and the mistakes and my voice disappearing in Ireland and nights full of too-soon-to-be-mature laughter. Maybe a quiet front porch with a few semi-close friends. Or maybe a rooftop in Berkeley with Saleh, quiet and serene as the sun sets.

What I don't understand is how someone intelligent can begin to associate something that is slowly killing her with all of these fond college-cliche memories.

I didn't kill the cigarette. I smoked the whole thing. But I watched most of it disappear to ash. I watched most of it float away into nothing.

That's how memory is sometimes. There is no space for it after a while, or you make new space for it. You begin to do things you know are not right and you don't even know why you're doing them anymore. You go from one second to the next, not remembering his face or hers. Forgetting about someone who means the world to you in an instant for someone else more exciting.

I am not addicted to cigarettes. I know, because I realized in watching it drift away that I can't remember what it feels like to kiss his lips, to hold his hand.