A Puff of Smoke

He inhaled, held his breath, then exhaled a huge cloud of marijuana smoke.

It was a Thursday night, after work, in the alley behind his apartment.

“Fuck!” he yelled. “I’m sick of this shit!”

Another inhale, breath held in, and exhale of another cloud of smoke.

Another night of fighting with his 20 year old fiancé over money had brought him to the pipe of marijuana. The money was tight again this month and her nagging over managing his money better had driven him beyond frustration.

“She can’t tell me how to handle my money, she don’t even fucking work!”

Another inhale and exhale of smoke.

“I can’t live like this.”

He felt the pressure. The pressure of working to support his fiancé, the pressure to support his soon to be two year old child, the pressure to grow up, the pressure to be better than he was before.

This wasn’t rock bottom. The time he was in and out of jail while his fiancé was pregnant was rock bottom.

Another inhale and exhale of smoke.

It was the day that him and his friends decided out of boredom to go steal a woman’s purse that had him behind bars for a total of nine months with the local gang members, making him see what his life could be like if he kept making those same stupid decisions. It wasn’t until he finally got out that he made a lifestyle change; he had to, he was a father now.

“I know it’s me, I can’t deal with everything on my own, that’s why I have this” he said pointing to the pipe.

Another inhale and exhale of smoke.

“If it wasn’t for this, she wouldn’t be able to stand being with me.”