Watch this one crash

Right now this urge feels like it'll keep climbing until you give in. No top in sight. There's always a top. A craving is a wave. It swells, it crests, and it comes down within minutes, whether you smoke or not. You've never once seen a wave stop in midair. This one won't be the first.

Now look at what it's offering. A cigarette, to make this feeling stop. But who put this feeling here in the first place? The cigarette did. It starts the ache, then bills you for the aspirin. Give in and the whole cycle resets. Ride it out, and one more wave comes and goes with nothing paid.

Get an ice cube and hold it in your closed fist. It'll bite. Keep holding, and switch hands when it aches. That sharp cold gives the wave something to break against besides you. You're not treading this water alone, either. The God who's mightier than any sea is holding you up. Ask Him while it melts. Keep my head above this one, Lord.

Drop what's left of the ice in the sink. Wet palm, cold fingers, and no cigarette. You wanted one, and the wave rolled in and rolled back out without getting it. That was freedom with the volume turned all the way up. Shake your hand dry. It crashed. You didn't.