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Why Quitting Smoking Is My Biggest Life Achievement
A triumph I hold too close to let go
“Come on! Take one. You’re not a true friend if you don’t,” said Marcin, handing me the pack of cigarettes with one stick protruding toward me.
Marcin, the 39-year-old project manager and I, became close friends (or so I believed) during a company retreat to the Polish Tatra mountains six months ago.
Today, during this small office get-together after work, he asks me to prove my loyalty.
It’s a tough call between keeping my promise of never lighting a death stick again and not betraying the part of me that values loyalty.
But I am sloshed, barely staying on my feet, and the smoking area smells so heavenly that I do not want to put my brain through the pain of resolving such a complex dilemma.
“Fuck it; give me one. One cigarette more cannot decide between cancer and eternal health after all!”
The first long drag. Oh my God, it feels so divinely refreshing — like taking a shower after a month-long break from hygiene.
But wait a second. The refreshing feeling is not alone. It has company.
Gradually, guilt, shame, anger, regret, and frustration are creeping in — a complex amalgamation of them…
