Today will be the beginning. The beginning of a brand new day, even better, the beginning of a healthier stage in life. Today will be the day, I fulfill my goal to quit smoking cigarettes. Such a nasty habit. Besides, I want to be able to run once again. Addiction is harsh, but on this day alone I will be able to overcome it, or will I? Am I so naive as to think it could be that easy? I hope so. The first twenty minutes of that day were uneventful. But ten minutes later, and it all went wrong. Half an hour after I wake up, I begin to feel the urge. The urge that has tortured me for so long. Too long if you ask me, and I resisted. One-hour rolls around, and I really need a smoke. The back of my throat clenches its self at its own will, waiting for the harsh smoke to enter my thus far, disappointed lungs. But I don't listen to my throat, for I know it's wrong, and I'm right. I don’t need any more of that, and it gets denied once more. I last another twenty-five minutes, when I start getting anxious and my stomach starts to cramp up. "No! Please, I don't want anymore," I whine to no one in particular. One hour and forty-five minutes after I wake up, I begin to start sweating, and decide its all way too much for me to handle. I can’t stand the intensity of it all. And with that, I go off looking for another smoke.
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