You got the harder version

There's someone in your life who's been smoking forever and looks fine. Sleeps fine. Has never had a day like this one. Meanwhile you're doing the hard thing, it's going badly, and nobody's handing you anything for it. That sour heat in your chest isn't craving, and it isn't sadness. It's resentment, and today it has a case.

You could try arguing the ledger into balance. Every reason will sound thin, because it isn't fair, and you know it. Some people let go easily. You didn't get that version. Arguing with it is like arguing with your own height. Spend the whole afternoon on it and you'll end the day the same height, only more tired.

Resentment only turns dangerous when it demands a verdict before the day can go on. That's when the cigarette steps up and offers to settle it. It never settled anything. It changed the subject for a few minutes and handed the resentment back untouched. God doesn't ask you to enjoy the weight before you carry it. He walks beside the ones carrying it angry.

Let both halves stand, side by side. This isn't fair, and I'm doing it anyway. Neither half cancels the other. You don't have to like the deal to keep it. Then give the anger a job. Scrub the worst pan in the sink. Angry hands still get it clean. Bitter and free is still free.