The teammate you kept blaming

You and your body used to have a strange deal. It got restless or edgy or tired, and you handed it a cigarette to quiet it down. It worked for a few minutes. The cigarette made your body's alarms look like the problem and itself look like the fix.

What did your body do when you stopped? It started cleaning up. No invoice. No grudge. It went to work on the damage and hasn't clocked out since. The rough patches of withdrawal are part of that repair too. It's been on your side the whole time.

Picture someone you'd wronged showing up the next morning with a bag of groceries. No speech. Just, where do you want these? You'd tell that story for the rest of your life. Your body did exactly that, and it's still carrying bags in.

Back your teammate with one move tonight. Get to bed thirty minutes early and let it do its best work. God handed you this body on purpose, and it's out of the cigarette's hands now. Tell Him plainly. You gave me this body. I'll take care of it. It carried you this far. Return the favor.