Trying to quit

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Trying to quit
by Asiansmoke


Hi! Remember me?, this is Amy Ho again. Many things have happened to me 
since I wrote my first story just a few months ago. I almost don't know 
where to begin.

I have been smoking for about 10 weeks now and I love it thoroughly. I smoke 
at work, at home, with my smoking friends after work and anytime I could 
sneak a cigarette in. I knew I was addicted because I couldn't go an hour or 
two without smoking again. I was angry at myself for not starting to smoke 
earlier in my life. I didn't know what I was missing!

I was thankful for Jeremy to get me started on smoking. Sometimes I still 
look at myself in the bedroom mirror with a cigarette in my hand and I can't 
believe I'm a smoker!

In the past I always looked down upon those people with no will power who 
stood at the door of a bus, waiting to get off the bus, cigarette hanging 
from mouth. What? They couldn't wait 10 seconds? I hated the smell of smoke 
on the bus when those people lit up as they walked out the door. How could 
they lose face in front of others?

Well, I now know where they come from. When I take that long 45 minute bus 
ride after work on the way to return home, I know that in the last few 
minutes of the bus ride, I get this feeling growing in me inside that I need 
to smoke. I have these feelings, urges at work now as well, but I just take 
my pack of cigarettes and walk to the smoking room and smoke a cigarette and 
satisfy myself. But on the bus, I can't do that. When the bus gets to my 
stop, I am so yearning for a cigarette that I can't wait to smoke again.

However, I can't have shame like those other people standing at the door 
with a cigarette in their mouth. I wait for the bus to pull away after I get 
off the bus. Then I quickly take my pack of cigarettes out of my purse and 
stick a cigarette in my mouth. I flick the lighter briskly and fill my lungs 
with that needed soothing smoke, and I feel so much better. By the time I 
finish my cigarette, I'm almost a my doorstep and I clearly enjoy that walk 
back home from the bus stop. Of course I light another cigarette minutes 
after I get home. I can continue to smoke while changing my clothings. 
Sometimes I watch myself in the mirror while I undress and feel shame once 
more as I touch myself in my special areas when I smoke.

I can also smoke while preparing dinner and while eating dinner. I smoke 
while doing the dishes, while watching TV in the evenings, while going for a 
walk after dinner. Sometimes when I walk I see 11 or 12 year old girls at 
the mall. I almost want to give them cigarette for free and teach them how 
to smoke so that they could start smoking and thank me later. I also enjoy 
that late evening after shower cigarette.

One night I had to work late. When I exited the building where I work, I 
wanted. No. I needed to smoke right away, but I saw the bus coming around 
the corner and did not want to wait another 30 minutes for the next bus. I 
ran to the bus, my lungs were burning. I got in the bus and caught my breath 
eventually and sat down. This bus ride was long. It was 7pm and it's had 
been 3 hours since my last cigarette. My lungs were pumping themselves, 
wondering when the smoke would arrive. I thought it would take another 40 
minutes until I could get off the bus, but it took longer than expected.

My lungs were crying in pain to me that they needed to be fed. There was a 
traffic accident up ahead and it took 1 hour to get to my bus stop. This 
time the craving in my lungs overcame my own shame and I stood just like the 
others, with an unlit cigarette in my mouth, impatiently waiting for that 
door to open. My lungs were dying. I felt like dying!. The bus was moving so 
slow and it was only a few hundred yards until I could get off the bus and 
feed my lungs with that much required smoke. I held the lighter in my hand, 
ready to flick it when the doors opened. I looked around and people were 
watching me, frowning at me, with my cigarette in my mouth. They looked at 
me with shame just as I looked at others previously. Screw them!

As the bus stopped, the doors were about to open so I flicked my lighter and 
brought it to the tip of my cigarette. I sucked the smoke as hard as I 
could, taking 2 quick puffs, but something was not right. The doors were 
stuck and did not open. Here I was, smoking a cigarette on the bus. This old 
lady beside me asked me to put my cigarette out. I just took another puff. 
She called me a hoar. I tried and tried to push the doors open, but they 
would not open. Another lady yelled at me to put the cigarette out. I looked 
at her as if it wasn't my fault that the doors were stuck. Thankfully the 
doors opened at that moment and that lady yelled at me again. I made sure I 
took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke into the bus as the doors were 
closing. I hope some smoke got into her nose, that ugly old bag.

My body had been deprived of nicotine for so long that I smoked 2 cigarettes 
on the way home. I finally felt relaxed! That is until I checked my phone 
messages. My husband left a message that he was finally returning home in 2 
days after being away for 3 months. I was thrilled that I could finally see 
him, but as I smoked a cigarette while watching TV that night, I realized 
again that my husband did not know that I smoked. How was I going to tell 
him?

Should I call him and tell him right now that I had become a smoker? Or 
should I e-mail him? Maybe wait for him at the airport and tell him there? 
Should I smoke a cigarette while waiting for him at the baggage turnstiles? 
Perhaps I could wait for him at home in the bedroom, and he could see me 
when he arrived while I smoked a cigarette naked in bed. I thought that 
certainly would excite him and he would permit me to smoke after that. How 
was I going to tell him?

I decided that the best way to tell him was for him to see me smoke. I was 
going to wait for him in the car with a cigarette in my hand, so that we 
could discuss the situation right away. When he saw me smoking in the car he 
really blew up at me.

"Amy, what the heck are you doing?" Jack asked, seeing me with a cigarette 
in my hand.

"I am smoking. I have been smoking for 3 months now. I am a smoker." I 
replied.

"Is this a joke? Are you putting me on?" Jack said.

"No. I am a smoker. I have wanted to tell you for awhile, but I didn't know 
how, Jack." I answered.

"Are you serious? Are we on Candid Camera or something? This is a joke Amy, 
right? " Jack kept saying.

Jack did not take me seriously, so I took a deep drag and inhaled the smoke 
into my lungs with a sexy open mouth inhale. I exhaled the smoke while 
tilting my head a little, trying to look sexy for him.

"Oh my God Amy, don't do that. If you are trying to smoke as a joke, you are 
overdoing it, you'll get hooked smoking like that. Stop doing this!" Jack 
shouted.

"Jack. I am a smoker. I started smoking 3 months ago. I smoke like this all 
the time. I am addicted. We have to live with it." I said as I did another 
powerful deep inhale.

"No we don't have to live with it. I can't stand the smell of smoke, and I 
never thought it would come from my wife, whom I've known for 15 years and 
she's always despised people that smoked. C'mon Amy, what's going on here! I 
can't live with you smoking. Either you stop, or, I'll have to think about 
leaving." Jack shouted.

"You are serious Jack; aren't you!" I said. I was shocked. I placed the 
cigarette on the ashtray of the car.

"Yes Amy. I can't stand you smoking. Quit now or I'm really going to leave." 
Jack said

"But Jack, I am hooked! I can't quit! and I can't lose you. I love you!" I 
shouted in tears.

"Yes you can quit, I will support you. You will enter a quitting-smoking 
program, maybe as soon as tomorrow. It's not healthy for you. We will do 
this together." Jack said.

I listened to what Jack was saying. I didn't want to lose Jack. So I decided 
to try what Jack suggested. I would try to quit smoking. After all, I wasn't 
born a smoker, I didn't smoke for the first 34 years of my life. I could do 
this. I tried to change his mind when we got home by lying in bed naked with 
a cigarette, smoking sexily for him. Although he got excited and we had 
great sex, he still wanted me to stop smoking. I told him I would try my 
best.

The next morning I felt like shit. I woke up and drank a cup of coffee, but 
it was like my lungs were telling me.

"Hey, Amy. Where's the smoke? We want smoke! We want it now!"

I knew how my lungs were feeling, but I couldn't give up right away and 
smoke a cigarette. I had been smoking at home for almost 3 months now and my 
body really needed a cigarette. I needed it badly. I decided that I would 
stop smoking tomorrow, but I would smoke today. Unfortunately my husband 
threw away all my cigarettes in the garbage and I had none left in the 
house. What an asshole!

I thought I could solve my problem today by buying cigarettes on the way to 
the bus stop, but my husband told me he would drive me to and from work 
everyday. Damm! I had to find a time and a way to smoke.

By the time I got to work I felt my heart and my lungs pounding. I was all 
shaky inside and really needed to smoke badly. Maybe I could smoke a 
cigarette at work and get my fill so that I wouldn't have to smoke at home 
in the evening and my husband would never know, thus I could keep him and 
keep on smoking too, but that would dishonor him. A couple of co-workers 
came to my office because it was time to go to the smoking room, but I 
couldn't go, I just couldn't go, I had to honor my husband. I told them I 
was trying to quit and they laughed at me. I began to cry in my office, I 
didn't know if it was because they had laughed at me or that I cried because 
I didn't know how long I could go without smoking. It had almost been 12 
hours, but I felt like a prisoner! I just wanted one puff. Just one. I just 
wanted to put a cigarette in my mouth and suck on it, just once. I wanted to 
suck on it hard. I felt like a 3 year old who wanted some candy. I felt like 
jumping up and down in my office demanding a puff, just one, maybe two. I 
was going insane! Nothing in the world mattered except for the next time I 
could suck smoke into my lungs. Nothing!

I wasn't getting any work done and was drinking more coffee than usual. By 
lunch time I was beside myself and could only think about smoking. As I 
walked to the cafeteria I had to pass by the smoking room. Even a whiff of 
the smell was driving me even more crazy! I friggin wanted a cigarette so 
badly!

My Lungs kept telling me:

"C'mon Amy, we need you to suck smoke deep into us. We need it. If we get 
it, you'll feel better. With each minute that goes by without smoke, your 
life will become more and more miserable!"

I ate my lunch but it tasted differently. I finished my lunch in record time 
and knew at this point that I could not go on any longer. I needed to smoke 
a cigarette. I need to smoke so badly, even more than on that bus a few days 
ago. I wanted to suck hard on the carrot I ate for lunch. Maybe I could 
light it and suck on it. I took 3 straws for my grape juice so that I could 
continuously suck on them, pretending it was a cigarette, but it wasn't the 
same.  I looked into my purse about 50 times but no cigarettes ever 
appeared. My husband threw them all away. I had no cigarettes but I had to 
smoke, now more than ever. I had to shamefully ask people in the smoking 
room for a cigarette when I made my way inside.

When I walked into the smoking  I saw my smoking buddies sitting where they 
usually sit, and I walked over to them in defeat, with a long face. I asked 
one of them for a cigarette. They couldn't believe it took that long for me 
to smoke with them. My lungs were salivating when I held a cigarette in my 
right hand. As I put it into my mouth, my whole body wanted to celebrate. I 
thought of my husband and how I was failing him, dishonoring him. I had an 
unlit cigarette in my mouth and began to cry because I chose a cigarette 
instead of my husbands honor.  I kept crying and crying, but as I did, I 
still lit my cigarette, I had no choice, and it was almost the best feeling 
I ever had. I double and triple pumped my cigarette and brought some much 
needed smoke to my starving lungs. When the first bit of smoke hit, it was a 
party inside. My body was celebrating. Oh God did that feel so good!

I just wanted more and more smoke and I kept on smoking that cigarette in 
record time. I borrowed 3 more cigarettes from my co-workers and smoked 
another one before returning to my desk. I can't believe I was choosing 
cigarettes over my loving husband.

I could think so clearly now after those 2 cigarettes. My body felt so well, 
my lungs were satisfied and I was so happy! But I was also a failure for 
giving into my desire to smoke. I failed my husband. I failed him over and 
over throughout the rest of the day by smoking 2 more cigarettes at work. I 
knew when he would pick me up he would smell it on me and I'd be in trouble. 
But I tried to quit. I really did! I gave it my best shot amd I failed 
miserably. Once a smoker, always a smoker.

By the time my husband picked me up, I hadn't smoked a cigarette in 1 hour 
and I hoped he could not smell it on me, but I was wrong. He knew right away 
that I had smoked that day. I told him I tried really hard to quit but I 
failed. He said he was moving in with his sister until I came to my senses. 
I told him I only smoked 10 to 15 cigarettes a day and that I would try to 
cut down, but I could not go to zero right away. He didn't care. He moved 
out later that evening.

I cried all night and my smoking amount did change after that. I wasn't 
smoking less, instead I was smoking more. I smoked a whole pack a few days 
after he left. Now that my husband was gone, I was feeling lonely and I was 
smoking more often, and pulling the smoke into my lungs harder and deeper 
than before. It wasn't long after that I was smoking more than a pack a day. 
My husband left me, but I knew my cigarettes wouldn't leave me. Ever.

I was more lonely and went out with my co-workers every night. I was smoking 
more and more and loving it. I told my husband that it was up to him to take 
me as a smoker or leave. He filed for divorce. Screw him! I could never give 
up my cigarettes. Ever!  I know that now and I'm glad I have my priorities 
straight.

Soon I was to become a divorced woman  and I had to chose amongst my smoking 
admirers which one would be my next husband. I knew if I chose a husband 
amongst the smokers that I could not go wrong, my future husband had to let 
me smoke. I didn't care whether he was Chinese or not.
Maybe I could invite them one by one to my place, give them a sexy smoking 
show and whichever one was the best in the sack, he would be the new Mr. Amy 
Ho. Who knows?

Maybe it might be someone I haven't met yet. I might check out some bars 
downtown and pick my next husband. Who knows what he future holds for Amy? 
But I do know cigarettes are in my future!