Cigars

I'm waiting for my most blessed washing machine to do a second round of laundry. Yes it's almost 11pm and people are either out partying or in their comfy pyjamas watching some TV until they nod of to sleep. 11 pm might be a strange time to put on the washing machine, but it doesn't seem to mind. My washing machine is now used to its owner who spends a lethargic day, then suddenly wakes up come 10pm. So I'm not very domesticated and will never be. I have just read on my facebook that a dear friend of mine "is preparing preliminaries for Christmas lunch." Preliminaries? Christmas Lunch? I have no idea on how that is done. Of course I know how to eat it all up with a fork, spoon, knife. But preparing it will never be on my agenda. I have seen my female colleagues ganging up these last two weeks, and every time I pass by them, I hear unexciting words like recipes, turkey, roast, simmer, bring to the boil... I just can never relate to that. But I could relate to other words which still describe the festive season, words like Christmas Tree, angels and lights, pudding (made by someone else of course), shopping, and shopping, and shopping, and yet more shopping. Oh and cigars. No woman will ever admit to liking cigars. Firstly because so many have quit this filthy habit of smoking, secondly because cigars do not exactly spell out the word feminine. But I still like cigars, especially the woody kind of. I guess I should have thrown out all my ashtrays very long ago, but I can't, or maybe I don't really feel like it. There is nothing like a cigar at the end of the day. One drag of that makes me feel so powerful, I wonder why cigars give me power trips. They transform me from a girl into this oh-so-powerful woman who tolerates no kind of crap. Cigars kill all my shyness, all my inferior feelings. Me and my cigar.. one had better just get out of the way. And there is why I understand the reason behind so many men dragging at their cigars when really they're making themselves sick and would love to find a loo to puke into, but hold on... because it's so very manly. It hasn't always been this way. I used to hate the slightest hint of cigar smoking, although I was already a smoker myself. But then an ex boyfriend smoked them, my relationship was not with just him, but also with his Cuban cigars. And I started liking them to the point of loving them. Perhaps it also reflected the relationship which was like a match made in heaven. It's not my fault he is now an ex, not his fault either, it's because life throws us bad things such as illnesses which become very serious and which take our loved ones away into the other world. It's a hellish thing to happen to anybody, but I've been there too. There where I kept hoping and hoping, and there where there was hope no more. That's where my love for cigars started, because he was no longer there, I could never call him again, see him again, talk to him again, I couldn't even say a proper goodbye. And I missed him so. I missed the smell around the house, the cigar smell which meant he was there and all was well. Anguish and agony makes us do funny things. I just had to create the smell again, and since I was totally on my own, then it just meant I had to start my own cigar relationship. It helped, and it didn't hurt anybody. And years down the line, I still light up my cigar, his exact same brand which is so hard to find, light a candle for an unknown reason and relish the smell. Because it smells so much like him. He was my world until it all came crashing down. I don't know if there is another world. But I don't really want to know if there is no other world. I still miss him, but the anguish has now been replaced with a helpless sigh. And as long as I light up my cigar sometimes, well, it somehow works because it's the only thing that just has to work.