Personal Narrative: How Double Inhale Changed My Life

Decent Essays
I was wearing a black t-shirt that perfectly complimented my porcelain coloured skin, and she was in the process of lighting a cigarette. I don’t condone smoking, I don’t like doing it, but my God I liked it on her. As the match swiped across the dulled beige box, the flame ignited. The bright red glow of the burning match completed how I was feeling about her, how I always feel about her. She would set me on fire, then put me out again. Slowly, she pulled the ignition to her “dart,” (that’s what she likes to call them,) and I watched as the ember consumed the end of the stick and the light danced eerily across her face. Inhale. Double inhale. Exhale. The smoked poured from her mouth like someone dropping a glass of red wine, and before it…show more content…
Inhale. Double inhale. Exhale. Something must have made her feel special about smoking cigarettes. I was in no position to ever tell her that her dreams were as small as the box she shoved herself into, because she was the only dream I ever had. Inhale. Double inhale. Exhale. I was thinking too much, and she was still silent, but so was I. She aimed her smoke up towards the stars, and I watched as they disappeared and came back, all at once. Knowing that I shouldn’t interrupt her in the middle of her cigarette break, I walked towards the car, and hopped up onto the hood beside her. I watched as the smoke cascaded out into the world and cheerfully swirled all around the world and dissipated. She had hope that one day she could do the…show more content…
“What do you want to say?” Looking at her, my thoughts were clouded. My head ached and my heart did the same. “I think I love you,” I managed, “that’s all.” Her fingers traced my hand that was lying limp on the cool metal, and she tied them into mine like a knot. “Come here.” was all she said. I jumped up and looked at the poisonous girl with the toxic dreams, and moved my face closer to hers. Foreheads touching, I stared into her jadedly beautiful emerald eyes. Pulling my free hand towards her face, my thumb traced the outline of her jaw. I moved my fingers through her hair, and she sat there, but she seemed content. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. I couldn’t kiss her. Not now. Not when she smelt like an odor that would stain my life, and stick with me forever, but I stayed there, running my fingers through her hair. Inhale. Double inhale. Exhale. “The only thing I’ll ever be able to love is darts.” She got up and left, and I sat on the hood of my car in
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