When I woke up this morning I noticed that the photo of Star that I have sitting next to my bed had disappeared.  This photo is a distinct part of my waking routine, as in it's the first thing that I see and I say 'good morning' to her and all of that.  I found the photo moments later; it had fallen down behind the nightstand.  I fished it out and calmed down and went about the business of waking up. 
The first thought to hit me was "I guess you are pissed at me, huh?"

I smoke about a pack a day.  Sometimes I'm good and I'll smoke less, get myself down to a half a pack, but I won't smoke more than a full pack.  A couple on the way in to work, a couple on the way home, some while I'm sitting around playing on the internet.  It seems to kind of add up pretty quickly. 

Yes, I know.  A pack a day is a lot of cigarettes. 

Friday night I had a dream.  It was just Star and I talking, sitting around.  I have these dreams from time to time.  It's like a strange little visit.  We'll chat about nothing in particular, nothing important.  We'll hold hands, talk, smile at each other.  Just like it was. 

In this latest dream, her and I were talking as usual.  I don't remember where we were, but I do remember her hair was messed up, like it had been raining outside and her hair had matted itself to her face.  We talked a bit about silly little things.  She asked me how I'd been, I think.  I wish that I could remember more of what she told me. 

Toward the end of the dream she leaned over and we kissed.  It was a soft, gentle kiss, the kind you use when you've just missed someone.  Like I miss her. 

After the kiss she said, "Michael, you should stop smoking.  Your mouth doesn't taste right."  I told her I would. 

I woke up not much later and remembered the dream, and the promise.  During my morning routine, which involves talking to her a little, I told her that I'd keep up my promise, that I would quit smoking.  I had about ten cigarettes left in the pack that I had bought the night before, so I thought I would just go through those and that would be it. 

By Sunday afternoon my cigarettes were gone.  I got through the day with no issues.  I fidgetted a little, chewed on some toothpicks, but got through without caving in and buying another pack. 

Monday I was back to work and it was my first full day without cigarettes.  This, of course, means that everything that could go wrong or get on my nerves did.  I got through the day at work, got home and hung out with some friends.  By midnight I was ready for bed.  After doing my normal hour's worth of going-to-bed chores I lay down to go to sleep. 

I woke up an hour later.  And I couldn't get back to sleep.  I tossed and turned.  I rolled over and over.  At around three o'clock i called my friend Cyn, hoping that she would be up and bored just so I'd have someone to talk to.  She, being the good person she is, was willing to chat for a little while but went did eventually need to go to bed. 

Finally, I passed out at around five in the morning.  Then I woke up at around eight. 

Got through the day with little fuss.  Got home, did some chores, played some video games.  Then I came in my room and sat down to wind down.  Only I didn't.  I couldn't wind down. 

The thought had occurred to me that I wasn't able to sleep the previous day because I was too wound up from lack of smoking.  And that thought squatted over me like a dark cloud.  I thought about it, thought about my promise to Star.  Thought about how much I'd hate to break that promise. 

I talked with her about it, as I sometimes do the trivial things in my life.  I said that I was trying, but it was hard.  That maybe trying to do it cold turkey, and without some kind of supplemental oral fixation wasn't the smartest move on my part.  I can remember how a friend of mine from when I was a kid had quit smoking by sucking on little flavoured candies.  I just thought that sheer force of will would help me get over a pack-a-day habit. 

Then I went out and bought some cigarettes. 

I lit one up as soon as I got out of the 7-11 and I honestly couldn't feel much of a difference.  I thought that maybe I would immediately relax, that my muscles would unclench and i would feel my body let go like a spring had lost its tension.  And I didn't. 

So now I feel like shit because I've broken a promise to Star.  I told her I would try and quit, and now I've got a fresh pack of cigarettes sitting in my pocket.  I've only smoked one cigarette.  Maybe that's enough.  Maybe I don't need to have another.  But I really want to. 

I just hope that I haven't let her down.

I'm still going to quit.  I just don't know how.  Is anyone here a recovering smoker?  If so, how did you give up the habit?