Withdrawal Sucks

I was addicted to two wonderful things. One was a drug. The other a person. I am in withdrawal from both.

1. I have finally quit smoking. Three years ago, after a nasty therapy session with my soon to be but not yet ex husband, I stopped at the first gas station I saw and bought myself a pack of smokes. I had not smoked in years and years. According to my sainted mother I needed the nicotine to help cope with the sadness and stress. She believed that I would quit when I was ready. For the last year I have tried everything I could think of to quit. Cold Turkey. Hot Turkey. Acupuncture. Therapy. Prayer. Gums. Mints. Patches. I would rip that patch off when the shit hit the fan and my stress level started to rise faster then you could say Lung Cancer. I had come to the conclusion that the only way for me to quit for good was to put me in a padded room with duct tape over my mouth....for a month. Guess what? I have not had a cigarette in two weeks. No kidding. I am off the nicotine. I went on that new drug and it actually worked. The psychical withdrawal is over. Unfortunately, the emotional withdrawal continues on a daily basis. I miss my friend.
2. My flover* has taken a second, third shift job through the New Year. He needs to put his financial house in order and this was the best solution. For him. Please, believe me, I whole heartily support him. If the end result is a happier, more care free flover then I am all for it. Except. Expect IT SUCKS. And since this blog is all about me then I can bitch and complain without having to be supportive. You see, my flover, at some point along the line, became my fun. Two or three nights a week I could escape from my pressure cooker of a life and go to a place of peace, touch, tenderness and laughter. Not to mention the mind blowing sex. The sex seems minor now. Yes, I miss the sex. I miss the laughter more. The touch more. The tenderness much, much more. I am walking 3-4 miles a day in an effort to make myself so tired that I don't have the energy to miss my friend. And at what point did he become so important to me that I could pine for him like a love sick teenager? (and if even one of you writes in a comment that I am "in love" I will boycott your blog for a year) It was all well and good to start dating to have some fun but I am not prepared to do the flip side of that. This so sucks in such a big way. I am wallowing in self pity. Wallow. Wallow. Wallow. There....and I don't feel better. I miss my friend.

* Flover: a friend and lover.