The only way out is through. This is an oft repeated phrase on the quitnet. It's so true, and not just for quitting smoking but for nearly every difficult change in life. The only way to get over heartache is to go through heartache, minute by miserable minute. Same goes for grief. I would say that our resistance to change stems from this very truth.
The cravings are so severe sometimes, it's like a guy shouting at me from my abdomen and then pulling different emotional cords. He's the disappointed parent scolding me. Why can't I just please him? Now he's the strongest desire imaginable, stronger than lust. And now he's terrible sadness, sadness that I've turned my back on him. I had to give him a likeness in my imagination. He's balding but fat-headed. Always grimacing. Hasn't shaved in a few days. He's losing his virility slowly.
Today I get to be distracted by a new visitor. I think I will enjoy showing a first timer around town, and I hope that his excitement reawakens my newbie eyes for this wonderful city. Of course I'll be taking pics. More tomorrow.