Quite a musing

Here's a memory.

I remember in high school having an argument with my then-friend Jenny. I told her she didn't really love her boyfriend because she was a smoker. I explained that no one who was capable of treating herself so irresponsibly could be capable of truly loving someone. That if she really loved him, she would want to live as long as she could.

As you can probably imagine even if you've never met Jenny-- and certainly if you have-- this made her incredibly pissed off.

I remember remembering this story one night in college, sitting on my back porch in the dark. I was smoking a cigarette, watching its lit end light up my spectral face in a window every time I took a drag. I had been out there, alone, trying to figure out what I could do to get my ex-girlfriend back when the fight with Jenny came back to me instead.

As the cherry burned towards the filter, I could see myself more and more clearly in the dark window. I leaned back in my chair, quietly amused at how little I had known in high school, loudly naïve to how little I had learned since.

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Currently playing: Of Montreal - The Past Is A Grotesque Animal