There are a couple of weird side-issues in my case. To start with, once I determined that I wouldn't explode, I began letting friends smoke in my house again. I was afraid to for the first year or so that I was on oxygen, but I tried using my gas stove out of desperation once because I had no microwaveable food and found that fire isn't actually my bitter enemy. I love the smell of both tobacco and weed smoke in moderate concentrations, but have no desire to indulge in them myself and don't miss them when they aren't around. Likewise, both of my parents never smoked. When I was in my teens, my mother was about 60 years old. She told me to spark up a cigar that I had received at a wedding because she loved the smell; I had been avoiding it under the impression that it would overpower her even though I smoked cigarettes at home.
Secondly, I still dream about smoking quite frequently. In each case, I'm still an ex-smoker in the dream but light one up for some reason or other and then immediately put it out and berate myself for being so stupid. Of course, in my dreams I'm as healthy as I was in my 30's and my parents are still alive, so I don't know what the hell that's about.
