The cravings stopped for a long while, or atleast came and went very quickly without any real effect on my mood or state of mind. Then I got closer and closer to my birthday. Every single day, especially when I was put on register, my cravings came back worse and worse. On my birthday and the two days after it was to the point where I'd have to bite at work (on both wrists, multiple times) in order to stop myself from buying a pack.
Yesterday I caved in. Got a pack of USAs and a lighter. Went to one of my co-workers who wouldn't question it or be concerned by it, no one around saw me buy them. I couldn't have one there, because my mom would see. Thinking about it more, I realized there was nowhere that I could really have one without her or someone finding out. Now incredibly twitchy, I decided to go with 1 to pick up one of our friends from work. It was obvious that I was not myself, that something was bugging me. When I left and he walked me home, I took the pack out. Immediately, but calmly, he took the pack out of my hand and looked at the contents inside. "Don't." He repeated multiple times, stuffing them in his pocket and pulling me close. "You're better than that."
{Am I?} I kept thinking, all the while still craving the death stick. We walked in silence after that, minus a few "I'm sorry" whispers from myself. He walked me inside, followed me into my room, and held me close. A little while later he spoke again.
"Is that all you bought?"
I nodded, but then remembered about the lighter and handed it to him. He shook his head, obvious worry icing his gaze over. I could barely look him in the eye, I felt so weak. Foolish. I had to be if I bought a pack of the thing that I swore I would never buy, the thing that could very well kill me without my inhaler by my side. Tears started to form, but never fell as he stroked my hair, rubbing my back with the other hand. He tried to lighten the mood with several comments while still getting his point across- "Cigarette breath smells really bad.""They're way too expensive." He even told me that he would pay me back for them, even though I told him he didn't have to. He kissed my forehead, looked me in the eyes, and told me he knew I was better than that. And if ever I craved again, to remember that before I buy another pack.The thing I remember the most was his second-to-last comment: "Now can I have a smile?" A genuine smile showed on my face, and the two of us laughed it off. He then tucked me in, told me he loved me, and softly closed the door behind him.
I was thinking for at least 2 hours after that. Am I truly strong enough to not give in yet again? I practically promised him that I wouldn't, and I know that he trusts in and believes in me. Even so, that nagging feeling tugs at me. Ieven had a dream that the two of us were walking around an amusement park together, smoking. Or rather he was smoking and the rest of the cigarettes were broken so I couldn't have one. It made me wake up wondering what he actually did with them. I know he's not the type to smoke, and am almost positive that he threw them away. And yet, I still want to ask. Still want to make sure.
Today I had to leave work without even saying goodbye, for if I did I probably would have bought another pack.
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