Remember when I started smoking? We smoked together my first time. I used to spend the nights on the town and the days walking in the park before our love affair with Mary Jane infiltrated my world. There were days the sun didn’t kiss my skin. We, instead, spent hours on the couch laughing over shotguns and zombies. We shared kisses infused with whiskey and cognac. Fresh herb stained our lips and finger tips. What a life.