Every cigar is a journey.
A passage of time. An experience good or bad (depending on the cigar). I was smoking an Arturo Fuentes Exquisito Maduro. Thinking that I could really have gone for a Hemmingway Maduro (Arturo Fuentes), but didn’t have the time to enjoy it and not end up leaving it half smoked.
An Exquisito is about a twenty minute smoke. Medium to full bodied. Medium draw, all good. With a strong cup of black coffee, it is impossible to beat.
Thinking about these things, I noticed this morning a couple of things about myself. I realized as I made my bed, folded some laundry and started another load, that I enjoyed doing things the way I liked to do them.
I did these tasks because I wanted to do them.
Not because I had to. Not because it was expected by anyone. Because I wanted to. For such a very long time in my adult life, I was forced to do so many things. My ex wife was a monster in many ways. Deeply controlling, narcissistic and conditional love on a scale that would be worth clinically studying (emotionally disturbed).
So I learned to hide.
I hid. In my “man cave”, in my many hobbies, in work, etc. Anything to escape the “The Hell” that was my daily waking life. She pursued me, looking to destroy me and anything that I might love or enjoy. She did this to my daughter. To my adopted son. Even to our pets (two dogs and two cats). Nothing was enough for her to destroy.
I think these thoughts came to mind this morning as I realized I still had a bunch of dress shirts in my closet. Carrying them to the garbage can, I dumped them in. Punching the stiff pressed shirts that carried the weight of my past down deep into the trash. A place they belonged along with all of the damage and destruction the ex wife caused.
I live in the white desert now. While there are monsters among the white dunes of sand, there is also peace and sunlight.
A place to dwell and think…