| I will always love cigarettes. I will always love seeing someone light up. Watching them inhale. Watching them exhale. Imagining that it�s me holding that cigarette. I will always miss holding a cigarette between my index and middle finger and putting it between my lips, slowing sucking in the sweet deadly toxins, holding my breath for a moment and then exhaling as I watch the gray smoke rise up into the air. Smoking was almost at good as sex, better than my favorite meal and equivalent to having a nice little buzz from a couple of dirty martinis. And don�t even get me started on the alcohol and cigarette combination. Those two just go together like hand in glove. Drinking will never, ever be the same. Neither will the moments after sex. Neither will the moments after eating. Neither will driving in the car on a cool spring day with my windows down and the radio blaring. I never really wanted to quit smoking until I got pregnant. Sure, there were things I hated about smoking. Like the smell on my clothes or my lungs feeling like they were filled with cement in the mornings. But I never seriously thought about quitting, because I enjoyed it so much. I was more than addicted. I was in love. Obsessed even, maybe. But when I found out I was pregnant, all I could think of was the helpless little baby inside me that I needed to protect and take care of. I cut back quite a bit after my son was born. I didn�t smoke in my house. But I still couldn�t quite bring myself to completely give it up. There were many times where I�d quit for a few days or even a couple weeks, but then I�d give in. I�d say, �Ok, I�ll have just one.� But one always turned into two and two into three, and eventually I was at the store buying a pack. My son is two years old now. About six months ago, I started a lot of praying and did a lot of thinking about quitting smoking. I decided that I loved smoking so much, I could never give it up on my own. I had to have a reason outside myself. I needed big time motivation. It was an easy decision and really the only one that made sense. I decided to quit for my son and ONLY for him. I thought six months would be plenty of time to prepare myself. So I set the date for my son�s 2nd birthday. I smoked my last cigarette 40 days ago. I made a promise to God, myself and my son that I will never smoke again. It means everything to me that I�ve made that promise to my son. He is the one person in the world that I could never let down. The last 40 days has been really hard. I can�t tell you how hard. The nicotine fits went away within 2 weeks after quitting. But, it�s the act that I miss. Maybe it will get easier as time goes on. I hope and pray that it will get easier. But I know I will never stop missing it.
It's been 40 days since my last cigarette.
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