I remember the first time I realized I had become addicted to nicotine: I was 15, I was on vacation with my parents and after dinner I realized I had lost my lighter... no one had a fire and the urge to smoke was so strong, my whole body was crying out for its nicotine fix. From that day on, I always made sure to have 2 lighters with me and a full pack of cigarettes.
Yes I was addicted now, yes I was a smoker, a real smoker.
And I felt so proud to have been able to build in one year this dependence that I would now be able to develop deep in my young lungs that I would darken a little more every day.