Three years or so ago, a friend asked me to help him in his efforts to quit smoking—he wanted moral support. I’ve always thought that supporting someone is always more effective when done actively, so I told him that since I didn’t smoke I would stop drinking coffee instead. Anyone who knows about my coffee lust would understand that this was a HUGE sacrifice for me. But I didn’t mind. My friend had developed severe respiratory issues because of the smoking and I wanted to help him reclaim his health.
The first few days were torture. My brain resented the lack of caffeine and it showed its anger via migraine-like headaches. I was irritated all the time. Going to the bathroom… let’s just say that the whole thing was a nightmare. But after a week without my beloved brew, I was fine biologically, even if spent a lot of my writing time fantasizing about sweet, hot French vanilla coffee…
Whenever I found myself reaching for a cup, I would remember that my friend needed me—the thought kept me honest. One day, my friend and I met up for tea. I gave him a hug. He smelled like cigarette smoke. I didn’t say a word, but the glare on my face cursed him out in several languages.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I sighed. “When did you start smoking again?”
“You, little shit!” I shrieked. “You never stopped, did you?”
I was so mad at him that I walked out. That was a long time ago, and I forgave him. Then he called me yesterday. He has been seeing a guy who doesn’t care for smoking, so he wants help quitting.
“No,” I told him.
He sent me
blackmail studies detailing the dangers of coffee. I
counterattacked with article after article explaining the benefits of drinking
on the dark-side. I sent him deep coffeeology thoughts.
But all quirkiness aside, today I’m sending him a link to this post and a more serious message:
My sweet B, I know you want to stop smoking to please your guy, and I know that your intentions are true. I won’t help you by quitting coffee so that “we can suffer together.” If I remember correctly, and I do, the last time I suffered all by myself (read above). But I want to help by saying that if you really wish to put out the smokes forever, love is the best of all incentives. However, it should be love for yourself first and then for anyone else.
So… I’m hoping this works for B. Three years ago, he wanted to quit because of the same guy. They broke up a few days into B’s cessation efforts, so my friend gave up. I think he might find success, if the motivations are his health and happiness. What do you think, my Wicked Luvs?
“I do believe [coffee] fairies! I do! I do!”
and in you, B