Quit-Smoking Journal

I was going through one of the drawers of my desk this morning and ran across my quit-smoking journal that I started on November 17th of last year.  I remember that day vividly.  I was hurting for a cigarette, it had been two days, and someone suggested that I put some energy into other things - like a journal.  So I went a bought a nice leather bound journal and a good pen, and I drove out to the Refuge, found a quite spot and wrote.



I'm not usually a lengthy writer, but I sat there and wrote about four pages in this journal.

The next entry was December 4th.  It was a short entry, about crying.  The people who know me, and were around for the events at the beginning of December would tell you it wasn't pretty.  I even thought that I might have been having a nervous break down.  Seriously.

While reading the entries this morning, I realized that, even though this journal was supposed to be about issues involved in quitting smoking, a big portion of it was my thoughts on a boy.  I talk about the complexity of my emotions where he was concerned.  While I'm not going to tell all that is in this journal, I would like to share a line from the second, and last, entry:

Why am I crying so much???  Because there is real emotion behind it.  For so long, I hid my emotions behind a facade of callousness and sarcasm.  Humor and false-wit.  Then I allowed myself to care again.  To love.  ...

When I look back on the end of the relationship with Eric (who I loved with my whole heart), I didn't have this kind of reaction.  Why now? ...

Perhaps I need to thank the boy, for helping me allow myself to feel for someone again.

 Two things:  First, it's a little weird to me that I would find this journal after all this time, and there would be something written about Eric - and how it felt when our relationship ended.  He called me on Tuesday.  We have a civil conversation (more civil than I had that we would), he suggested we get together, I suggested a drink (soda or water), and he was adamant that we share a meal together.  So, we're having lunch on Saturday while I'm in the city.  When I told my good friend Shawn, he suggested that I go to the Bricktown IHOP, were he is a server.  Actually, he said something to the effect of "Are you serious??", then suggested IHOP.  Presumably, so he would be handy to kick Eric's ass should he say or do something stupid.  He's such a good friend.

Second, I realized that I never thanked the boy for helping me feel again.  Part of me - a big part, actually - would like to be able to go back to hiding behind the facade.  I know that's not the healthiest way to go, but it seems abundantly easier than dealing with these emotions all the time.  Then again, who said that life was easy?


I have vowed to reopen the quit-smoking journal, but this time it will just be the journal.  Will I stick with it?  Most likely, I won't.  But, at least I'm giving it a shot.  Right?