Last year, this magazine wished me good luck on my new journey. I was off to conquer a vice that had been a big part of my life for ten years. I can still smell it, on my clothes and on my weekend nights out. I can see its haze and flowing movement across the bar. But somehow I am still able to resist. As of this month I am one whole year with out a cigarette.

It hasn’t been the easiest year. Life’s stresses and hurdles could have made for an easy backslide into carcinogen intake, but I’ve been able to abstain. I don’t know what it was this time, but I am glad so far that it hasn’t been as hard as I thought it would.

I started smoking when I was 16 or 17. Before that, my buddy and I found a random pack when I was 14. It had one stale Marlboro Red 100 in it, and we gave it a try. It was gross, but satisfying. I can think of million reasons why I started, but I bet it was just as simple as all my friends did it, and I did too. There was no real peer pressure or anything, just stupid curiosity I guess. And yeah, I thought I looked cool.

Smoking was a big part of my life. I was the jerk who bummed so much I became notorious. No seriously, notorious. My friends started calling it “Troying.” I’d buy my own packs or share with people I was dating. From Marlboro Lights, The Filtered Lucky Strikes, Kamel Reds, Parliament, and Pall Malls, I went from social smoker to fully addicted.

A year ago, I met someone. This someone is a cancer survivor at only 25. It’s not so much that I quit for her, but it finally hit me to quit. Her cancer wasn’t from smoking, but it made me realize that I wanted more out of my life—and every time I lit up in front of her, it was like a slap in the face to her, even if she says it wasn’t. I was done.

I just quit. I didn’t stay home out of its grasp, or smoke an occasional one here and there. I just quit. If anything, I forced myself to be around it. I still went out all the time and just dealt with it. I also wasn’t going to hate myself if I failed. I would just start over again and go for it. Maybe I’m still with it second-hand, but I feel I am doing well.

I don’t think I will ever be without a craving. When I see a fresh pack of Parliaments, it takes a lot not to ask for one, but it’s getting easier. I keep on with it, and I’m not totally without vice in my life, but I can be thankful that one is still absent.