She did not quit smoking
She would not say that she quit smoking
She had never smoked
She had partaken in enjoying
Some delicious nicotine satisfaction
Some stress-relieving
Some social, communal, inter-personal
Some such activity
She did not quit smoking
She simply quit cigarettes
At the age of forty-three
When many would say
It's too late to quit bad habits
She quit a few things that year
She quit her boyfriend
Who she thought would be husband number two
She was too old for a boyfriend
She didn't want a boyfriend
That's how she wound up with husband number one
And although that had not turned out as she planned
Had anything turned out as she planned?
She was not afraid to try again
Insisted upon it, in fact
And so Trevor had to go
And so, thankfully, did the Dallas Cowboys rug
That had filled most of her living room
For the past year
Why had she agreed to let him move in?
Because she was lonely
Because she needed sex
Because she was hoping he'd get the hint
But now he was moving out
Still not having gotten it
But at least having gotten rid of the rug
And so, she was satisfied
Until she quit cigarettes
Then satisfaction
Came to a grinding halt
Right where the rug used to be
She thought it would be easier
She was never a heavy partaker
Not even during the divorce
Instead she ate
She ate an entire village
Of small Lithuanian peasants
But she only had cigarettes a few times
Over the years she'd gotten a bit worse
She'd bought the occasional pack
Just to have, she told herself
Just in case
In case of what?
In case she had unexpected sex?
In case she needed to look cool alone in her house?
In case she felt like throwing a cocktail party?
The pack was where it had always been
On top of the refrigerator
Clearly put there to hide it
She was not a proud partaker
That was certain
Just because she didn't do it often
Didn't mean she was happy to let people know
That she actually spent money
On an ENTIRE PACK
The cigarettes were next to the photos
The photos of her first husband
Eliano--God what a name
What a body
What a deranged lunatic
That man was
The photos were of them in Tuscany
Where they went on their honeymoon
And on their first aniversary
And right before the divorce
To try and make things right
It failed as a recovery mission
But it was still a lovely vacation
She hid the photos
For the same reason
She hid the cigarettes
But didn't throw them out
Shame and necessity
She liked knowing both were there
Eliano was kicked out
In a much more raucous fashion
Than Trevor was
Much more screaming
Many more broken objects
Miles upon miles of bad memories
And memorable sex right before the last box
Was placed in the moving van
Now the house was empty
No children to speak of
No children to not speak of either
No trophies, no accomplishments
Nothing to show for forty-three years
Except a bad habit
Hidden on the fridge
That would be something
That Rebecca Benson could get right
She could quit the cigarettes
That would be her trophy
The first week went by without incident
She lunched with her friend Miranda
Who was developing empty nest syndrome
But was hesitant to admit it
She took her mother shopping
And listened to her stories about quitting drinking
As if it was the same thing
As if anybody in their right mind would quit drinking
There was reason to quit cigarettes
But drinking was a lovely habit
When you knew how to manage it
Nothing anyone should quit doing
The first week was easy
The second week was a disaster
She relapsed almost immediately
When Trevor called
And she heard a woman's voice
In the background
It turned out to be his daughter
But the panic still drove her to the fridge
Where she became a partaker again
While she was down in the gutter
She even looked at the photos
Hey, why not? She thought
She still managed to be proud of herself
There was pie in the fridge
Left over from lunch with her mother
And she didn't pour whipped cream on it
And devour it while watching the news
That was something, at least
So there was another first week
Another lunch with Miranda
Another shopping trip with Mom
Another phone call from Trevor
This time to ask how she was doine
She was doing nothing
But she was quitting cigarettes
And that was something
But felt like nothing
Because when you quit
You've never really quit
At any point you could relapse
As she had
Which meant that quitting
Was not something one did
But rather
Something one was always DOING
Which was intolerable
Who would want to do ANYTHING
Constantly and forever
What a maddening thought
She made it to week four
Before she relapsed again
An entire month
Gone
Just like that
Just because her tax refund
Was not what she thought it would be
And that meant no vacation to Tuscany
And this time it would have been
Without Eliano
And that would have been sad
But also invigorating, all the same
In mourning for her respite
She partook
The next time she lasted six months
And then the call came
'Were you married to a Mr. Eliano...'
He wasn't dead
Just a fugitive
A fugitive from justice
How overly dramatic
If not for how fiscal
The whole thing was
It was too CNN to be romantic
He had scammed women
Lots of women
Rebecca guessed that she should have felt lucky
That he'd never scammed her
But she felt for the others
She saw their photos when the police came
They looked so dowdy and pathetic
Exactly the kind of women
That would love a man like Eliano
They're lucky he didn't ask for organs, Rebecca thought
At the right time, he probably could have gotten them
And the money as well
After the police sat
She sat in her kitchen
Holding the pack
With one cigarette left in it
She kept telling herself
This is what happens
This is what happens
When you quit cigarettes
When you have to stop doing something
You're given more reasons to do it
When you're on a diet
You get invited everywhere
Everywhere where there's food
Banquets
Birthdays
Feasts of the Epiphany
Food everywhere
When you quit drinking
You wind up getting taken out by your daughter
Who still drinks in front of you
Because she shouldn't have to give it up
She can control herself
When it comes to drinking, anyway
When you quit your boyfriend
When you quit your husband
You find yourself lonelier than you've ever been
You find out things about them
That make you hate them
And want them back at the same time
You find out that you never really had them
And here you were
Thinking you had done something
Something strong
Thinking you had quit
Thinking you were stronger
Than what you gave up
Rebecca Benson sat in her kitchen
And looked at that cigarette
She looked at it
And the photos next to it
And she tapped
She tapped her finger on the table
She tapped out a rhythm
She tapped out her anxiety
She tapped out Morse code
Code for--
'I'm drowning. Save me. Someone.'
At least
That's what she wanted to tap
She got up and paced
She stared at the clock
She watched ten minutes go by
She watched twenty minutes go by
She paced some more
She made cookies
She took everything out of the cupboards
Then put everything back
Soon the night was over
It was morning
She had made it
Made it to morning
And that felt like something
The constant quitting was still on
But something else ceased
Something stopped
And Rebecca Benson
Took a breath
And started the day
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