Cigarettes and Lavender

Cigarettes and lavender. The dark smelled like something burning yet calming and the room felt… neither cold nor warm.

The person who had arrived waited, their feet not tired and their patience not thin, as a small light made its way to them. The figure within the light stops in front of them.

“Hello.”

“Hi. You know why I’m here?”

The figure stares quietly before nodding, “Why don’t you tell me yourself.”

“I’m here for a new life. I need to… escape.. I need to get away.”

The figure nods. This person was no different than the ones who had come before, nor the ones who would come after. They all wanted a change. Or so they told themselves.

“Why don’t you tell me why you need a change.”

The person looked uncomfortable, fidgeting, but the lavender became stronger and it steeled them, “Ok. Yeah. Sure. I- Well, my friends and family, they’re too much for me. They all want me to fit their image of perfect, which none of it is the same and I can’t hear my own freaking voice. I need to get away from it all. I can’t-”

The figure remains silent and patient.

“Look. Do I really have to rehash this? Can’t you- I don’t know. Just-... Just get me out of here. Please.” The last word was quiet, more of a plea than a demand.”

“It’s important.”

“I- It’s not pretty. None of it is pretty.”

“Your past doesn’t need to be pretty to be yours.”

“Yeah, well.” They breathe in deeply- air that has a hint of spring to it. “Ok. I was.. Well, my mother… she’s always hated me. My father, he left when I was young. Six years old. She’s blamed me. She’s always told me if I was better behaved... “ They shake their head. “It was hard. And I tried to ignore her. I tried to do my best- school, friendships, relationships- but my sister’s always judged me. She’s younger and her dad stuck around, so she doesn’t get it. Mom always babied her, spoiled her. I think she wanted me to be more like her… And it clouded my judgment. I thought, for the longest time that if I pleased people, then-” 

The figure watches as the person shudders and holds themselves to self soothe. The room feels warmer now and the shudders stop.

“I thought if I did what people wanted, then they’d love me. Or treat me like something more than a mistake. And I did everything I could. I messed up a lot, doing the right thing for the wrong people, and doing the wrong thing to please the wrong person. I’m such an idiot.”

The light surrounding the figure expands, adding a warmth to the room.

“You don’t need to justify yourself or put a label to your actions.”

“Then why did you ask??”

“You are here to find a new life. You cannot move on to your new life without bringing yourself with you. To find a truly new experience, you must acknowledge what of your life you wish to take and what to leave.”

“I want to leave all of it!!”

“Then, you can speak of all the things you wish to leave behind.”

“Fine! Ok? Fine! You’re in charge, right? So, fine! I want to leave my mom, my sister, everyone behind! My partners never loved me! They found ways to hurt me! My friends stole from me! I hate all of them!”

“What about your stepfather?”

“What? Him? Well…. He wasn’t my real dad…”

“He loved you?”

“Ye- yeah. But it always made me feel weird. My mom hated me, so why- I never got it. He was always good to me.”

“Do you want to leave him behind?”

“I have to! He’s with my mom.”

“You can keep him with you. Let your mother go. Leave her. But hold on to the kindness your stepfather showed you. Remember, love is not always predictable or necessitated by a biological bond. Do you want to show others the love he showed you?”

The person looks confused for a moment, “Y-Yeah. I don’t know. Why did he love me? I don’t- I don’t--”

The figure reaches out slowly and places its hand on their chest. From the touch, an unrecognizable feeling spreads, something akin to understanding a new concept. When the figure pulls back, it leaves the feeling behind.

“My stepdad.. he... he really loved me. Just loved me. No ulterior motive… He-” tears start streaming down their cheeks, “How could someone be so kind? To me, of all people?” They cry and shiver, and though the figure remains, they don’t feel watched. They feel as comfortable as when they’re alone.

They let out all of their frustration and pain in what neither feels like seconds nor hours but feels all-encompassing. Memories of being betrayed and of betraying pass through them as they carry the weight of pure, unconditional love.

Their tears slow and the figure speaks, “Remember your niece.”

“My sister’s kid?”

“Remember her hands reaching out to you as she took her first steps.”

“I was so proud of her. It felt like she could do anything she set her mind to and I wanted that for her. I wanted the world to make way for her brilliance. I knew she could conquer anything.”

“Remember the kindness of strangers.”

“Strangers?”

The figure extends its hand and they take it. The feeling of understanding returns as images pass through them. An old man bringing back a stray ball, a babysitter comforting them, a woman at the park offering advice, a man covering the last quarter of a purchase, someone waiting for the bus sharing their umbrella, someone holding open a door.

The person tears up, this time filled with hope and warmth.

“The world’s not so bad, eh?”

“The world has cruelty and it has kindness. There is not just one or the other. For your new life, you can leave behind the cruelty.”

The figure lightly pulls on their still connected hands.

“You have nothing left to make it through. You have shown your strength. It is time for vulnerability and peace. It is time to leave your pain behind. Are you ready?”

They nod their head, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

So they walk into the darkness and the light dims until it is gone. A moment filled with lavender. The person fades. When they are gone, there is a smell of something burning. Some people ask what that smell is. The figure tells them it is the smell of what they choose to leave behind burning away.