The Smoke Between Us

There’s something about smoke that draws people in. It swirls around us, creating space for conversation, curiosity, and even connection.

When I reflect on my first few years in the cigar world, everything feels like a blur, but one thing I remember clearly is the people, the energy, the chemistry, and the way connections often ignited faster than the light of a cigar. Almost every man I met during that time had a cigar in his hand or knew how to speak the language of the leaf. Those conversations always began the same way:

“What are you smoking on?”

It’s a simple question, yet it always leads somewhere meaningful. There were flings, crushes, and friendships I still hold dear. Not every encounter turned serious, but many became something tangible, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Sometimes, I wasn’t even looking for those connections. I dated people outside the cigar community, but the community itself provided me with peace. It gave me room to exist, to be seen, to flirt, and to exhale. I could make eye contact across the smoke and wonder about possibilities without uttering a word.

Not all those connections lasted, but the moments? The memories? They linger in the smoke between us. Even those I dated outside the community were introduced to my world. They stepped into lounges they didn’t quite understand, observing how I interacted, how I greeted people, and how I communicated without saying too much.

They might not have held a cigar, but they were exposed to the energy that permeates this space. Then there were the ones who pretended that those who tried to act cool in a realm they didn’t truly belong to. They attempted to fake their way through conversations they didn’t have the vocabulary for, thinking they could impress me without realizing that I observe more than I speak.

In this world, you don’t need to call someone out; the smoke will reveal the truth for you. There’s power in the way I communicate without words. My presence is already felt, but when I blow the smoke? You know precisely what that means.

I’ve said it before, but now I feel it more deeply: I didn’t know then, nor could I have understood, that the day I opened the door to The Ligero Leaf, my life would be forever changed. Some of those changes were good, some tested me, and some forced me to adapt.

But every moment, every introduction, every misstep, every vibe, every goodbye taught me something valuable. I walked in curious and playful, unaware that this space would unveil a new version of me. There were seasons I loved loudly but hurt quietly, connections I thought would last that only lingered briefly.

Yet through it all, I kept showing up. I kept growing. I kept smoking. Because one thing about me? I still blow. I’m still blowing smoke. I still exhale truth.