Saturday, September 1, 2007
Sunday Scribblings: The End
Because I’m never sure when it will come on, when the craving does appear seemingly out of nowhere, I always find myself having to remind myself of several things. One, breathe in. Two, breathe out. Three, I’ve quit. Four, it’s over forever. Kaput. Finis. The end.
It really hasn’t been that long ago that I quit. The urges came on much stronger at first, once the decision had been made. I tried to appreciate it more when I knew it was ending, but I probably didn’t focus hard enough. There are times now – random times – when I’ll berate myself for not enjoying it more when I could do it. As with the urges, I’m never quite sure when those moments of regret will strike me.
I spotted a pair of them a couple of weeks ago in their car. Sometimes I’m thankful to be driving the Jeep because I can see so many people. When I come across those kind of people, though, I long for a low-to-the-ground Miata or a one-of-the-crowd sedan. I could see completely into their car. They had all of the accouterments. Breathing deeply, stopped at the red light, I could smell the dead giveaway. I pined for my own.
And then it happened again last night. The five of us were out to dinner. We had to pass through a crowd of them to get into the restaurant. And sitting at the booth behind us was a set of three. Two of them took turns doing the deed. I begrudged them somewhat. My husband mostly just teased them, tried to scare them.
I still have dreams about it. Nightmares, really, starring me. I guess that’s not uncommon. I suppose that they’re as typical among exes as those dreams of not studying for exams come long after the school years have ended.
Most of the time, I’m so happy we made the choice to take better care of ourselves. We have so much more energy than before. We can do so many more things. The world is pretty closed up to you when you’re hooked. When you’re freed from that restraint, you can do almost anything.
It’s been more than three years since we eliminated them from our lives. Babies, they’re a hard habit to quit.
[Thank you, Sunday Scribblings, for a fine prompt this week.]
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