Quitting Smoking - Heaven Help Me

I started smoking when I was 18 years old.  The funny thing is that until I actually started, I was always one of those people that thought there was no way in hell I would ever be a smoker.  Well, 17 years and unwilling-to-figure-out-just-how-much-I've-spent-on-smokes later, it is time to stop. Really this time.

I've tried half-heartedly to quit before.  "I'm gonna do it this time." "I'll feel so good." "I can already feel my lungs clearing out." And a day-and-half later, I'm come up with some not-so-good reason to start again.  It's amazing how the mind can rationalize the continuation of a habit that really has little benefit outside of the fact that it feels fucking good.

That's the thing about smoking. I love it. I love the first drag in the morning.  I love a cup of coffee and a smoke. I reeaaaallllyyyy loved a smoke (or pack of) when I was drinking (I rarely drink anymore so that's not gonna be an issue). I love a smoke after sex. I love a smoke with my wife outside on a nice night talking about life and God and love. I love a smoke with friends. I fucking love smoking and I have never apologized for that.

But, like that old friend that you love hanging out but know is a bad influence, sometimes you outgrow something you love and it is time to move on.

So it is the case with my smoking.  I love you, old friend.  But it's time for me to move on.

Heaven help me. Fuck.