Dear Tobacco,

Last night I had the feeling that I'd be writing you again. I thought about how you have touched my life, and the lives of everyone around me, and how I needed to get some things about you off my chest. I realized that I wanted to write lots and lots of letters to you, as a legacy to my friend Eric and his family. You see, he's the one I wrote to you about a couple of weeks back.

I had the feeling that it would take his death to actually get me going on this commitment - that it had to be something bigger than me to make me get down to expressing my thoughts, to help me talk to you about the real effects you have, and to help me grieve.

You see, Eric died last night. It was peaceful. His wife and many siblings were by his side, and indeed his whole family was nearby this past week. But as 'well timed' as a death can be, he still died as a direct result of your influence on him. He still died at least 20 years before his time. He still must leave a family behind.

I hate you.