Hey, Grumps. You sound pissed. Whether it's about your joke, or the fact that you're in limbo between a smoke or without a smoke, I can't say. Maybe it's about nothing, but you do seem to be leading with an edge today. An observation on my part. That said, if it feels like I'm judging you, feel free to give me a "fuck you, Mac" if you believe I'm out of order. I'm operating on the premise we're friends so it's all good between us.
You asked for a suggestion regarding your being resentful about no longer smoking.
I've told family members who were whinging about not boozing to just go and fucking booze if they weren't ready to plug the jug. I worried they might not climb from the new bottoms they would dig, but we all place our bets and hope for the best. They were all smart and knew the angles. In the end, it's between the individual and God.
Sometimes my family members reached hideous bottoms; bottoms so horrific and dark they quit the booze happily and never looked back. Sometimes they kept drinking and went through years of misery. No respite or rest. Miserable sober. Miserable drunk. A terrible existence.
Sometimes they died. Before I turned 16, I had two uncles die under our roof from the booze. My maternal grandmother, frequently carted-off to Bellvue ranting and raving with the horrors, kept at it until the booze finally killed her. My paternal grandfather lived above a bucket of blood gin mill caring only where his next beer and ball of whiskey came from. He was such a wet-brain, he didn't even know his own family when we'd come to give him money. I'll spare you the litany and particulars of at least another eight family members who packed it in because of the booze. Most of them, good people. Some, the finest people I've ever met.
The stakes are high when you bet a life.
I write the above as background to honestly answer your request for a suggestion. To put my reply in perspective.
If you're unhappy with your decision to quit smoking, Grumps, then smoke.
In for a penny, in for a pound. For me, I've got to be in all the way. No regrets, no resentments, no second doubts. Anything else is going to lead to a slow, miserable ride. Of course, should you choose to go back to the smokes, you have to parse the odds and then step forward without looking over your shoulder. Have to be willing to take the hand you dealt yourself with no regrets.
As someone who has come to care for you, I hope you choose to not smoke. If you do choose to smoke, I'm with you too. Only you, Grumps, have your answer. But you know that. All best to you.