Day 2, no cigarettes.
We attempted it time and time again the last few months, failing each time.
We argued heavy last night, but that kind of anger doesn’t last.
We love each other too much, and tonight, we attempted to go to sleep at 8 p.m. and all I’ve been doing is pacing and eating and pacing and I’m sick of it.
This is hard.
Someone stole money from me at work.
I need a new job.
I want a new job.
I’m doing well at mine but I still want to see if I can be utilized correctly elsewhere.
Cried a lot today.
Lots of memories flooded in.
I haven’t healed in the way that I know I need to, but I’m getting there.
I don’t want a cigarette, I want the feeling that having one gives me.
No, I’m lying
I want a fucking cigarette.
I am an addict.
I love knowing that once I light one up, the next few minutes are that of calm.
Even if it is a false calm, it is a calm nonetheless.
I can’t wait for the weekend.
I plan on finishing this thing I’ve been working on and doing some watercolor paintings of the flush of emotion this week has shown me.
This husband of mine, is my most precious gift.
I am lucky to be loved the way I am loved.