Craving a Butt

I want a cigarette. I quit years ago, but that doesn’t stop the cravings now and then. They are lesser (is that a word?) than ever. In fact this is the first time I’ve wanted a cigarette at all in years. It’s another habit that kicks up the craving.  But (a female cardinal just flew away after sitting on the tree just outside my window)

I don’t have any and I don’t truly want one. The last time I attempted to smoke a cigarette it really hurt my throat and lungs. I couldn’t finish it.

I was happy though that it had such an adverse effect. It helps to curb that desire remembering that last experience.

A few months after my father died, in 2013, my body just started rejecting anything cigarette. I spent the weeks leading up to his death nightly, at the bathroom window in my house, lighting up and puffing away.  It was winter and I didn’t always feel like standing out on the porch.

It was stress reducing to stand in the warmth of the house while catching some cold air and carbon monoxide of course (from the ciggie butts that is.)

When I get a craving now I know it’s from boredom, a void in my core or anxiety.

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