It'll be a lot like a death.  The first time I quit, I quit completely for almost ten years.  I had it licked.  Then out of the blue I got started again quite accidentally (a boring party, walked outside and found my brother-in-law smoking, on impulse I shared one with him while we discussed confidetial family stuff, yada yada yada I became a "social smoker"...went from having an occasional smoke at an occasional party to a pack a week within 6 months)  Still, I covinced myself that I wasn't really "back" until one of my sons caught me and, not having ever seen me smoke before - the look of horror on his face made me feel I was caught mainlining heroin.  I became a closet smoker.  Not in actual closets, but I'd go out and sit on the glider on our backyard deck after the kids went to bed - those were the sweetest, most enjoyable smokes of all. {sob}  I had to face the cold hard facts - health issues aside - that if I didn't stop I'd end up looking like the woman behind the counter at the Mobil station where we get our gas (and where I got my cigarettes) her entire mouth was turned unnaturally upside down, her skin looked like leather and all around her lips were yellowed nicotine stains.  So in the end I didn't stop for health reasons or because of the cost of the habit.   I quit for vanity.  But I still miss those mornings out on the deck.  Maybe I'll get back to them eventually, once the grief subsides.  And it will subside - for you, too.  You'll get to the point where you'll suddenly realize you haven't thought about it at all for the whole day or night, or wanted one.  Good luck.

I've reported your post.  Wicked man.