Well, I haven't had one of these in a long time. Don't know what inspired my subconscious to run that smoky plot line through my sleeping hours, but there I was, in a restaurant smoking a cig. Realizing that I had broken my quit. Realizing that I had, once again, entered into active addiction and aware that it wouldn't be just that one. It was so real--I could feel the seductively familiar "comfort" of inhaling the carcinogenic smoke; I could even discern that it wasn'I a light cig, but a"full-flavor." Later, I had another, while I was right next to my wife (which I never did), aware that she noticed and was so disappointed with me. End of dream.
I have no idea where this dream came from. I honestly have not been romanticizing or wanting a cigarette at all. I can't imagine ever lighting up again. But I DO know that if I ever even had just one puff, I'd be right back at it. I know that, for me at least, I am that vulnerable to the nicotinic hooks that will forever lie (now dormant) in my brain. Fortunately, it was only a dream. And a warning.