I’m not a pack a day smoker and I only smoked three cigarettes this week, but it doesn’t excuse the fact that I still smoke cigarettes and I know that I shouldn’t.

I know my family wouldn’t have it. And neither would my friends. I’m closet smoker, just like how I’m a closet author. But this Friday is dragging longer than I thought and I don’t have much of a weekend to look forward to. I’m still at square one with a lot of the goals I’d like to achieve and responsibilities are weighing me down.

It’s a crutch. It’s choice that I’m in control of, but its a bad choice. A girl that I became madly in love with left me, and I saw it coming. But I strolled along, and now that I’m making the necessary steps to move on, it doesn’t make anything that much easier. I didn’t have much of a choice. And now, I’m living vicariously through the goals I’ve left behind to be with her, to care for her. I had to let her go, it was better for the both of us. I think.

I’m not as happy, but I’m getting through it.

I exchanged that problem with a problem I could handle. That maybe if I start smoking, and quit, I could prove myself that I’m still in control. And that I still have choices, and I could continue.

I could see and understand how some people, under the face of suffering, resort to such things as drinking and smoking. But really, it doesn’t solve anything…if make the situation worse. Now I have a higher mountain to climb, but a tougher struggle makes for a stronger person in the end. But how far do I have to go until I realize it’s just not worth it.

It’s not worth it. I hate this. And so I write, I have a few to talk to, but I haven’t allowed myself to trust. Maybe I would hope that someone I knew found this blog, and figured out who I am. It’s hard to come clean to a friend, or even family, when a lot of people rely on me to set a good example, who look up to me. I just can’t be that person, all the time. I take care of what I need to do, make end’s meat, make sure most of my relationships are in good standing. But it never seems to be enough.

I face decisions everyday that may affect the rest of my life, its not always “peace easy.” It’s not easy. A struggle between who I want to be, who I need to be, and who everyone expects me to be. I guess this is more than just about kicking the habit.

It’s Friday. I need to relax. (But not with another cigarette.)




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