Why did I start smoking? I ask myself as my fingers anxiously drum against the counter. Maybe if I figure out why I started smoking it'll help ease the crave. It's not a hard question; I remember my first cigarette drunk, sober and I remember exactly when I bought my first pack. The exact date elludes me but the emotions and thoughts still sit painfully in my memory box. I wanted to die. Plain and simple. I hated myself and I wanted to die a slow and painful death, one fitting for someone like me, and this method had to be a well kept secret. Smoking it is. Does this apply to my life now? Nope. I don't want to die anytime soon, I want to have a family and watch them grow. I want to fulfill my dreams because I have those again. So I guess I have a reason to quit smoking.